


Of All the Stupid Things

by Rei (RoarOfTheEarth)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, All of our old boys are actually young this time around, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Prompto Argentum, Cor is fucking dense, Cor's gonna figure this out, Cor's ulcer is named Regis, Dad!Cor, I promise, M/M, Nyx's self esteem issues, OOC, Prompto is a national treasure, Slow Burn, Someone please explain how children work to Cor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, dad!nyx, is there a sex dungeon? will we ever find out?, like forever burning, one day, plot holes everywhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2020-03-29 19:45:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19026673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoarOfTheEarth/pseuds/Rei
Summary: The door to the next room was jammed. He frowned at it, listening to the sound of the fire roaring behind him, to the fall of metal. Under all that noise, he heard it. Distant and weak.A cry.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Septembre_Rain (Zyrielle)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyrielle/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh.  
> This idea kept bugging me and Septembre was the one that always talked about BabyProm to me and made me think of things and bred all the plot bunnies.  
> So uh, here's you some BabyProm goodness?
> 
> (I wrote 3 chapters of this in the span of 3 hours on a fucking _whim_ , thought about cramming it all into a one-shot, said fuck it and posted it in parts. So um, enjoy? :''D)

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 1

He shivered despite the heat that boiled through the building, staring blankly at the wall while his mind tried to make sense of the charts that were scattered over it. If what he was seeing was true; the blueprints, the sketches, the list of _ideas_. Then the Garleans had a lot more to answer for than just attacking Lucian soil.

Reaching out, he carefully ripped a piece of paper from where it was pinned to the wall. It was a sketch of what looked to be a child, no bigger than a toddler with augmented metal pieces attached to their limbs. There were blueprints for tubes, for pieces of metal that would one day be attached to these children. There were detailed maps of the inner workings of the Magitek Troopers he’d spent most of his life killing.

He pulled the rest of the papers from the wall and folded them, shoving them into his pocket before going to the next room.

Regis, his King and one of the few people he would claim as a friend, had sent him here to get answers. Had sent him here to _kill_ the man that had made mass producing MTs possible. He’d failed in that aspect, Verstael Besithia had not been there. He’d opted for destroying one of the production plants instead and was nearly finished until he’d stumbled across this room.

The door to the next room was jammed. He frowned at it, listening to the sound of the fire roaring behind him, to the fall of metal. Under all that noise, he heard it. Distant and weak. A cry.

Something similar to dread crawled up the root of his tongue and stuck to the back of his throat. Smoke was filling the entire building, the fire was roaring closer and he was sure there was more than one explosion going off somewhere distant, but his mind latched onto that soft, distant cry. With a snarl, he shoved his shoulder into the door, tried to force it open only to bounce back. Again, he tried. Then again, until it finally gave enough for him to squeeze through. Ignoring the way his coat got caught on the edge of the door, ripping off several of the buttons, he hurried inside. The room was tossed and badly damaged from an explosion that had happened somewhere else. Part of a metal beam had fallen through a wall, crushing several computers, glass structures and what looked to be giant metal tubes.

The crying was coming from the corner, lost in a snarling metal cage of what had once been part of the ceiling. He didn’t have much time, not with more explosions going off and the fire eating the distance between him and safety.

But he wasn’t leaving. Not until he put to rest one last fear. Not until he saw it with his own eyes.

‘It’ was trapped behind that metal, and he bent to the task of pushing pieces of it aside, ignoring the heat as it seared through his gloves and blistered his fingers, ignoring that voice in the back of his head that told him to just _leave_.

He had a lot of ghosts that followed him already. He couldn’t let this tiny voice become one too.

He stared, as the last of the metal fell back from what was left of one of the tubes. Curled in a ball in the center, no older than maybe two if he was being generous, was a child.

Blond hair like a mop sat on the top of its head, blue nearly violet eyes brimmed with tears stared at him with such fear he froze. And then tiny, chubby arms reached up towards him, begging. He didn’t move, not until another explosion went off that startled a shrieking wail from the child and he had to use his own back to protect the boy from a falling chunk of ceiling.

* * *

Cor sat upright in the bed, breathing in deep and staring at the wall hard. He blinked until the production facility faded from his vision and turned back into his borrowed room, then buried his face into his hands and waited for his mind to finish its mental gymnastics. Everything about the past three months was fucked. From him traveling to Garlea on the King’s behest, what he’d found there, and the situation he was now in upon stepping back onto Lucian soil.

Beside him, not even remotely perturbed by the sudden movement of the bed, laid the child he’d found while destroying the facility. He stared down at the boy, swallowed hard and tried to figure out what the fuck he was doing for the hundredth time.

And he still had to call Regis.

Liquor was the only answer, he decided as he carefully removed himself from the bed and walked to the door. A whole lot of liquor and a cigarette.

He had to squint when he walked out, shielding his eyes a bit from the light of the setting sun where it shined through the wide-open door of the garage. Below, someone murmured something and he heard the clang of metal on metal before footsteps started in his direction. He carefully grabbed the metal railing around the catwalk, leaning over to look down as a young girl, no older than five, started towards him.

Blue-eyed with a head full of blonde hair, no one would ever deny the little thing would grow up to be beautiful one day. She had a smile that could win the heart of anyone that made their way to the garage.

“Uncle Cor!” that happy voice called, looking up at him. “Did you sleep okay? Is the baby still asleep?”

Cor sighed but gave the child a small smile. “He is. Will you sit with him for a bit?” The girl gave a happy squeal and rushed past him, though she went through the door gently, tip-toeing into the room so as not to wake the sleeping toddler. Once she was inside, Cor carefully made his way down the metal stairs, his attention on the glare of orange and yellow light that streaked the sky outside. He’d slept for a full day it seemed. The sun had just barely been a hint of light on the horizon when he’d arrived at Hammerhead.

“Was beginnin’ to wonder if you were gonna to wake up,” a rough voice called to him. Turning, Cor looked over at the owner of it, who was buried shoulder deep in the engine of a beat up, light blue car. 

Cor snorted and walked closer until he could see the beginnings of dark brown hair streaked with grey poking from around the hood. “I’m honestly still trying to figure out of I’m dreaming.” Everything still felt surreal. Like he hadn’t quite woken up yet.

“That’s called shock, boy. Yer almost home and all the shit is hitting the fan at once.” The man stepped back, slammed the hood down on the car and turned his bright hazel eyes on Cor. “You ain’t called Reggie yet either.”

Cor stared at him because there was only one way Cid would know that particular information. “You called him,” he stated bluntly, shocked. “I thought you said you were never going to be the one to call him after everything.”

“Yeah well,” Cid huffed and turned his back on him to lower the car back to the floor of the garage. “Reggie practically raised you, and the rest of us helped. When you’ve gotten yerself into a pickle, we’re supposed to help.”

He fell silent because honestly, he was probably the only human alive on Eos that could claim he had four father figures in his life, no matter how much or how little he appreciated it. “What did he have to say?”

“Didn’t tell him about the brat,” Cid huffed, puffing on his cigarette before offering one to Cor. “Figured you’d wanna handle that. I jus’ told him you were here, you were safe and sleeping like a lump of coal in my bed. He wants ya ta call him though.”

“I imagine so.”

He’d been gone for three months. A month to travel across Lucis then barter for a secret ride over into Tenebrae. A week to get through Tenebrae without anyone knowing he was there then sneaking into Niflheim proper before infiltrating Garlea to learn where the production facilities were. That had taken him the longest, but finding the facilities afterward had been easier. He’d visited the one Besithia had most recently visited, hoping the researcher would still be there. He hadn’t, but Cor had been able to bring down the facility. It would, if nothing else, slow down the production of the MTs.

He hoped anyway.

He still had to debrief the King on what had happened while he’d been in enemy territory. Had to explain why he’d come back with a small child bundled up in blankets instead of going to the next facility.

“What happened over there, Cor?” Cid asked him, staring at him quietly. “I know you. Whatever ya saw, it rattled ya.”

Cor took a deep breath, felt the lie slide across his tongue towards his lips but it stopped. Locked behind his teeth, it folded and slid back down his throat. “I’m going to need to be drunk to explain this. Very, _very_ drunk."

* * *

“Kids,” Cid murmured, staring down into his whiskey glass. “You’re sure?”

Cor pulled the paperwork out of his pocket, unfolding it onto the table so Cid could see, and said nothing when the older man released a string of curses that should have curled his toes. Cid was an old soldier, he’d seen a lot of shit in his life. Cor had too if he was telling the truth. Ghosts piled at his back, waiting in a queue for a chance to haunt his dreams when he finally closed his eyes at night. He knew with certainty that if he’d left that crying child behind, however, that he would have been at the front of that line. That small boy’s voice would have haunted him the most. Even more than Mors’ did.

“It looks almost like they are… growing them. I don’t know,” he murmured and choked back the remaining whiskey in his glass before pouring himself more. “There were a lot of villages that were just ghost towns, completely void of life when I was traveling through. I’m guessing they stole a lot of them from families. Maybe they ran out? That’s what some of the notes there made it seem like.” He rubbed his face, not willing to look at the drawings again and waited for Cid to fold them back up before stuffing them in his coat pocket.

Cid was quiet for a moment, pouring himself more liquor before he lit a new cigarette. “How long do you think they’ve been doing this?”

“Long enough.”

“Cor. We’ve killed MTs before. We still do,” Cid pointed out, a haunted look crossing his face. “Don’t tell me we’ve been…”

Cor chose not to say anything at all.

* * *

“Things are, complicated, Regis.”

 _”What do you mean by ‘complicated’? Cor, what’s going on?”_ Regis didn’t sound angry, just annoyed with the whole situation. _”I can send someone to get you if that’s what you need. Clarus or someone else, whatever you need.”_

Cor chewed on his lower lip. Clarus would ask too many questions. “Do you have anyone else that can come? Someone you trust with secrets?”

Regis fell silent, thinking things over. _”Do you remember Lieutenant Ulric?”_

He did, he’d been looking over the man’s personnel file before he’d left for Niflheim. Cor had quietly been planning on shuffling some paperwork around to see if he couldn’t slide Ulric from the Kingsglaives over into the Crownsguard. The man had been in the military since he’d turned sixteen, first in Galahd fighting the war there, then after the refugees had migrated to Insomnia seeking asylum. He’d worked his way through the ranks of the Kingsglaive like a man on a mission, and Cor was loathed to let Titus Drautos, the commander of the Glaives have someone that dedicated.

Regis had also taken a shine to the man since part of Drautos’ ‘punishments’ for his more uppity soldiers was to put them on what they called ‘King Duty’.

Ulric was mouthy, sarcastic, and had a penchant for talking when he wasn’t supposed to. Regis had immediately been enamored with the Galahdian.

“Yes.”

 _”I can send him?”_ It was a question, not something Cor had been expecting. Regis was feeling his way along whatever emotional minefield Cor was sitting in the center of right now. Clarus would ask too many personal questions, about how he felt about what he’d seen. Clarus also wore his heart on his sleeve and would take Cor’s new trauma personally. Ulric would not.

“That’s fine, send him.” He breathed out a low sigh and closed his eyes. “And Regis?”

_”Yes?”_

“You’re not going to like this. Any of it.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone before the King cleared his throat. _”Cid didn’t tell me much. But you showing up at his garage like that scared him enough to break a half-decade long silence. I don’t suspect I’m going to like a lot of things in the near future. Get some rest, Cor.”_

Cor snorted softly. “Yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how many parts this is going to have. It's not going to be long. Originally I planned for 3 parts, but it might be 5?  
> We'll find out. I'm using this as stress relief because it's full of Cor being fucking dense and adorable and Nyx just putting up with it because I love them.


	2. Chapter 2

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 2

Two days had passed since Cor had called the Citadel and talked to Regis, the King having sent one of his most trusted Glaives out at Cor’s request. After he and Regis had talked, Cid had apparently called him back and told Regis to give him a few more days before pulling him back to the Citadel. Regis had listened to his old friend, sending Nyx out in the late evening of the second day.

Now the brunette was crouched in front of the door to Cid’s living quarters over the garage, watching the toddler with open interest as the little blond tyke waddled around the carpeted living room. “Cute little shit, ain’t he?” he murmured, earning a laugh from Cid who was standing nearby.

“He likes ta hear himself talk too,” the old mechanic chuckled, watching the toddler. “But he is quite cute.”

“Name ‘im?”

Cid frowned at that because of course, Cor hadn’t named the child. “Jus’ been callin’ ‘im ‘brat’ for the most part,” Cid admitted, giving Nyx a cheeky grin when the Kingsglaive stared at him with open contempt. “Blame Leonis.”

Cor frowned at Cid from where he sat on the couch, holding a hand out for the child to grab as he waddled closer. “I didn’t see a point in naming him,” he admitted. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to him after we get back to the Citadel.”

“They’ll likely assign him to foster care,” Nyx murmured, resting an elbow on his knee so he could palm his chin. “But a name would stick, and if it’s unique, we could use it to keep track of him as he gets older. Check in on him from time to time.”

“Brat is unique enough.” Nyx made a face at him that spoke volumes of just how he felt about that. Namely that Cor was obviously an asshole. “Fine, you name him if it means that much to you.”

“What about Prompto?” a little voice beside Cid piped up. “I uh… I started calling him that when he was up while you were asleep, Uncle Cor.”

Cor turned to look at Cindy while Nyx covered his mouth to keep from laughing at his title of ‘uncle’, something Cindy had deemed him worthy of over the past few years of odd visits. “Prompto?”

“Ain’t that the name of one of those lil’ fellas on that show you watch?” Cid asked his granddaughter.

“ _’Li’l Malbuddy’_ ,” Nyx supplied, laughter still fuzzy along the edge of his voice. “It’s a kids show they aired in Galahd a long time ago. I didn’t know they still showed it until Lib showed me the other day.”

Cor had heard of it, but never watched the show since it was a children’s cartoon and he was normally too busy to bother with much of anything on the TV anyway. “Who’s Prompto?”

“I think he’s supposed to be Malbuddy’s little brother,” Nyx said with a shrug. “He’s a newer character to the franchise.”

“He’s stinky,” Cindy added, waving a hand in front of her face while scrunching up her nose cutely. “He gets picked on ‘cause of it.”

“And you want to name him after this character?” Cor asked, eyebrow raised at the little girl. “Do you think he’s going to get teased?”

Cindy stared up at him, her little hands on her hips and her head cocked in such a way it screamed Cor was about the be sassed right out of the building. Nyx’s eyes shined in sheer delight at the display as the little girl pointed upwards at Cor. “You ain’t had to smell his dirty diaper!” she declared with a huff. “He _stinks!_ ”

“She’s got ya there, son,” Cid laughed while Cor rolled his eyes, though the corners of his mouth tugged upwards slightly.

* * *

“Bye, Prom!” Cindy said cheerfully as she waved, giggling when the little blond rugrat managed to return the gesture by doing something similar to blowing her a kiss. Nyx found the whole thing endearing as fuck and cooed over the small boy as he shoved himself into the driver’s seat. Cor took the passenger seat, holding Prompto in his lap since there was no booster seat to put the child in, not that the little escape artist would have stayed in it.

Nyx, Cor noticed; had a way with kids. Cindy, who was normally shy and quiet around new people, had opened up to the young man almost instantly. Cor had watched as Ulric had sat there and chatted with her, listening to her tell wild stories from her imagination, one of which involved the parents she couldn’t remember and why they weren’t there. The Glaive had listened with the utmost interest, nodding his head and asking questions about each tale.

Prompto had also taken a shine to him, which Cor wasn’t sure if it was simply because it was something about Nyx, or because the little boy was open to all affection lavished on him. He’d been completely shy around Cid at first until the older man had played peek-a-boo with him, something Cor was going to file away in his memory to bring back up later when he had a chance to tease the old man.

“If you’re worried about where he might end up, maybe Cid could raise him? He’s doing a good job with that little girl of his,” Nyx said as he started to pull out of the gas station, turning towards Insomnia. “Though with just him, that might be a bit much.”

It kind of startled Cor out of his musings, the sound of Nyx’s voice in the otherwise quiet car. Prompto was content to sit in his lap and try to stare out the window as the landscape moved by. Nyx wasn’t driving fast, especially since they didn’t have Prompto secured.

“I thought the same thing,” Cor admitted, glancing at the Glaive from the corner of his eye. “I don’t really know anyone that would take him in. Maybe Clarus, but his wife is pregnant again and due towards the end of the year.”

The corner of Nyx’s mouth turned down as he thought it over. “I don’t know anyone either. There are a few Galahdian couples, but with how things are right now…” He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “He’s a cute kid, I’m sure a sweet couple will adopt him.”

Cor fell silent, glazing down at the top of Prompto’s head as the small child wiggled a bit closer and curled up against his chest, popping his little thumb into his mouth. Some part of him, a sense deep in his gut, was worried that once it came to light of where the child had been and what he’d been through…

“Marshal?”

Cor jumped, glancing at Nyx and frowning slightly when Prompto whined, jostled from his encroaching nap. He settled back down quickly enough, closing his eyes again as if nothing had happened.

“His circumstances are a bit... Complicated,” Cor grumbled as he rubbed the boy’s back. “I don’t know if they’ll even allow him to be adopted out.”

“Complicated?” Nyx was keeping his eyes on the road, but Cor could hear the interest in his voice. He wasn’t pressing for information, not like Clarus would have. For that, Cor was grateful.

“I think he was born in a lab,” Cor clarified, turning his gaze back towards the road so he didn’t catch any of the looks Nyx shot his way. “I’m not sure how; I have the charts from the facility that probably explain it a lot better than I can.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “But if it’s true, part of me is worried they’ll want to destroy him.” And Cor wasn’t going to let that happen, even if it meant defying the crown and running away.

Nyx snorted, gaining Cor’s attention. “The King won’t let anyone hurt him,” Nyx stated with such certainty that Cor for a moment felt stupid for thinking it was even a possibility. “I know my word isn’t worth much, I’m just another refugee-turned-Glaive, but the King will tell anyone that wants to have Prompto ‘destroyed’ to fuck right off. He’s safe now, Marshal. And we’ll make sure he stays safe.”

It was something in the way Nyx said it, or maybe simply because he’d said ‘we’, but it made Cor feel better. Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Yeah, we will.”

* * *

When Cor had been thirteen and an utter shit-head, serving under Mors Caelum as his bodyguard, Regis had treated him like a younger brother.

When Cor had been fifteen and ordered to protect Regis on his trip to Altissia, Regis had treated him like a comrade.

Now he was twenty and Regis was _trying_ to treat him like a son. It didn’t work out that well for him, but he got points for the effort, if only because the King was a completely soft buffoon when it came to children. It was probably the only reason Cor had survived knowing him when he was younger.

Regis, in all his Kingly glory, had stared in utter shock at Cor when he and Nyx had entered the throne room with the blond toddler nestled in Cor’s arms. He wasn’t sure if it was some self-taught preservation skill or just some latent talent for winning over the hearts of anyone he saw, but Prompto had pointed those blue, nearly purple eyes at the King and the man had melted right there on the fucking throne.

Clarus had tried to stay blank-faced during the whole exchange, but as Prompto sat in Regis’ lap, burbling up at the King while Cor gave his report, he became distinctly aware of the way Clarus kept cutting his eyes down at the child and then would frown mightily at the mention of the toddler possibly being a test subject.

“It’s possible,” Cor stated as Prompto giggled at the King. “That they are using children to create MTs. It looks like they are…” He struggled for a moment, part of his brain locking up at the thought of it.

Nyx saved him. “If I may,” he murmured as he stepped forward. “I looked at some of the charts,” Nyx continued. “It looks like they were attaching metal limbs to them. From the notes included, they changed out the mechanical parts as the children grow. The rest of the… er.. ‘Enhancements’ as they are called are done over time.”

“So we’re killing children out on the battlefield,” Regis whispered as he stared down at Prompto in horror.

“I’ll argue on that point, sir,” Nyx murmured, shaking his head. “By then, they’ve mostly been… replaced.” His mouth thinned and Cor realized that Nyx had discovered something within those notes he hadn’t seen. “They are infecting them with Starscourge, Your Grace. The things we’re killing out on the field… They used to be children.” His voice went hard, his shoulders stiff. “Killing them is probably a mercy at the point they are now.”

Cor felt chilly fingers brush down his spine and clenched his teeth a little harder.

Regis was watching the both of them with a hardness in his green eyes Cor had not seen in years. Not since Mors had died. “What would your suggested action be, Ulric? As a Glaive, your units would be the first ones to go in to try and… rectify this mess.”

“Mages,” Nyx stated simply. “Enough of them to set off multiple casts. After what I’ve heard from the Marshal and read on those papers, I’d burn Garlea to the ground, sir.”

There was a fondness to the smile that Regis gave Nyx despite the conversation at hand. Cor recognized it all too well. It was the one the King used to give him when he’d been younger and mouthy and hated losing. “And if calmer heads were to prevail?” He questioned, turning his eyes on Cor now.

Cor chewed on the inside of his cheek, meeting the King’s gaze. “Mages,” he echoed softly. “The situation in Garlea is beyond diplomacy. Maybe don’t burn down the city, but every facility must fall. It would take a lot of power to take them out.”

“You’re calling for all-out war, Cor,” Clarus spoke up. “We can’t afford one right now.”

“Then we take our time, build up our numbers and lure the Empire into false security,” Nyx offered. “Call a ceasefire, lure their leaders here and let us do the rest.”

Now it was Regis’ turn to frown. “You want us to stage an ambush and kill them on Lucian soil with trickery.”

Nyx looked up at the King and bowed his head slightly. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but.” He paused and pointed towards the blond cuddled up in Regis’ lap. “Do you think they were going to ask him if he wanted to have bits of metal shoved under his skin? To be infected by a plague that would slowly eat away at his mind?” Nyx snorted in contempt when Regis stayed silent. “They wouldn’t, and they won’t, not for any of the little blond-haired babes at any of their other facilities either.” 

Regis turned his gaze down towards the small toddler, stroking his blonde hair gently. “One sin will not right another,” he murmured, his eyes going back to Nyx.

“No,” Cor interjected, stepping up beside Nyx. “But it can stop an endless cycle.”

Regis stared at him, the stress that etched its way across the young King’s face making him look far older than he truly was. “Let me think on this,” he murmured finally, carefully handing Prompto over to Clarus who walked him down the steps of the throne back to Cor’s waiting arms. “For now, I’m entrusting the boy’s care to you, Marshal.” For a moment, the old King was back, that crooked grin ghosting across his mouth. “They say giving something a name attaches you to it. Make sure you take good care of our little Prompto.”

Cor sputtered and Nyx laughed. “ _Our_?!”

“Oh I’m fully invested now,” Regis told him. “I’ll be conducting weekly visits to make sure he’s doing alright. I’m sure between you and Ulric you’ll be able to raise him just fine.”

It was Nyx’s turn to sputter. “ _Me too?_ ”

Regis made a face at the other man. “Of course. Do you think I want a toddler walking around acting like Cor? I had to deal with him as a _teenager_. I don’t need a toddler who’s first inclination upon seeing me is to call me an ‘asshole’.”

Nyx turned and stared at Cor with such open admiration, Cor felt some strange instinct to preen. “To my credit,” he said with a shrug. “You are an asshole, your majesty.” Then he turned and marched out of the throne room, leaving a flabbergasted Nyx behind.


	3. Chapter 3

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 3

“I need help.”

_”It’s three-forty-five in the morning, Marshal. What the actual fuck could you possibly need help with? Sleeping? Because I will happily beat you unconscious.”_

Cor pondered the legality of such a threat but didn’t point out that he could technically have Nyx arrested for threatening a superior officer. “He’s hungry.”

_”Then fix him some godsdamned food.”_

Some little warning bell went off in the back of Cor’s head that advised him to hang up and try someone else, someone more sensible. Like Monica. “I tried,” he continued, abandoning all self-preservation to the wind. “My microwave caught on fire.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone line and Cor wondered if Nyx had hung up until he heard the low sigh. _”How?”_

He didn’t like repeating his mistakes, especially when he was being judged so heavily but he couldn’t see how he’d done anything wrong at this point, so he shrugged it off. “I was warming up some leftovers from work. It was almost like someone placed a lightning spell on the damn thing. It sparked, electricity arched through the center of it and then it caught on fire.”

More silence. _”What the fuck did you heat up?”_

“It was just some leftovers in a foil pan-”

Nyx broke off into a string of curses and swears Cor didn’t recognize. He knew Galahdian when he heard it, but he didn’t understand a lick of the language coming from across the phone. He had an idea, however; that Nyx was calling him a lot of ugly, nasty names. _”Fucking idiot.”_ Another bout of other-worldly swears before Nyx took a deep breath. _”Meet me here,”_ he grumbled into the receiver before spouting off an address. Cor agreed to be there in about thirty minutes before the other end of the phone went dead.

Glancing down at Prompto who was looking up at him with wide blue eyes, Cor pursed his lips together thoughtfully. “I wonder if I should take a peace offering?” Prompto just burbled in response and Cor went to go at least brush his teeth.

* * *

The address was for Nyx’s apartment. Nested deep within the confines of the section of Insomnia the Galahdian refugees had taken over, in a building that wasn’t much to look at. Cor had wondered about the area as he’d walked the streets with the small blond in his arms. He’d gotten a few unsavory looks, and what he could only assume were insults mumbled in Galahdian before he reached the apartment building. Most of the buildings were run down and in poor shape, probably because Insomnia’s people had left it to rot and the council hadn’t deemed it worth repairing despite Regis’ pleas to them to divert some of the funding from other things to help with the upkeep.

The Galahdians had made do with what they had and what they knew. They repaired what they could, but they could only do so much. They were bitter towards the Insomnian people for the slight. Cor couldn’t blame them, though he hadn’t known quite how bad it was until now.

He went up two flights of stairs before he found the door he needed and knocked. It was already after four-thirty in the morning, but he knew Nyx was up. There was some shuffling behind the door, soft cursing then the lock was undone and a sleepy-eyed Galahdian peered out at him before stepping back and holding the door open.

The apartment was a bit run down, just like the rest of the Galahdian Quarter, as the rest of Insomnia had started calling it, but it wasn’t uninhabitable. Some of the paint had chipped away from the wall, the carpet was a bit bare in places but otherwise, the places looked clean, if not a bit crowded by the sofa and recliner that took up a large portion of the front sitting area.

Nyx was not hiding the fact that he very much wanted to be in bed, still dressed in his pajamas that consisted of a black shirt with a cartoon moogle riding a chocobo and a pair of yellow sleeping pants that matched the shade of the chocobo’s feathers. When Prompto held out his arms, demanding for the other man to take him, all his sharp glares and narrowed glances turned into soft huffing and slight smiles.

“Alright, alright,” he grumbled and took the child who immediately went about examining the bright characters on his shirt. “That’s a chocobo, can you say chocobo?”

Prompto looked up at him, eyes bright, stuck out his tongue and sputtered.

Nyx laughed. “Close enough.”

Cor sat, watching as Nyx walked through the small kitchen of his apartment and started pulling things down. He paused long enough to glance at Cor and give him a calculating stare. “How much cooking do you know?”

“I threw a fish on a fire once and waited until it turned black to eat it.”

The look Nyx gave him was worth the judgment he was silently receiving.

“Then what about the leftovers you said you were warming up?”

“Monica gave those to me.”

Another long stare followed the first. “I’m going to pretend that you are just,” he paused, as if he were trying to find something non-offensive to say, and then obviously gave up. “Stupid.”

Cor shrugged. “No one ever thought it was important to teach me.”

Nyx scoffed. “What about when you’re at home?”

“Order take out.”

“On a mission?”

“Rations.”

“What about when you were with the King before he became… King?”

Cor made a face and snorted. “Cid always cooked. Or Weskham. I hunted. That was about it.”

Nyx rubbed his face and sighed, earning a giggle from Prompto. “Okay, so we’re starting from scratch. I can work with this. I can _totally_ work with this.” Taking a deep breath, he carefully placed Prompto on the floor and pointed at Cor. “You, will meet me here every other day for cooking lessons. If you can’t make one, that’s fine, just let me know. Once you start getting the hang of it, we’ll cut them to twice a week, then once a week and bam, you should be good on your own after that.”

Cor frowned, but Nyx wasn’t having any of it, glaring back at him. “Don’t you frown at me, you called me at nearly four in the morning to complain about burning up your microwave. Which, by the way, _you don’t put metal inside of._ ”

“Oh.”

Nyx pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Let’s get started.”

* * *

An hour later and Cor had mastered the concept of grits and eggs. He could scramble them fine, which was probably better for Prompto. He could almost make an omelet without scorching the bottom of it, though trying to fry an egg still eluded him. The white of the egg would be rubbery and tough while the center still seemed scarily raw. Nyx advised him that practice made perfect.

He also had little concept of ‘seasoning’, something Nyx was adamant about since spices seemed to be a ‘thing’ in Galahd. He was practically beating Cor over the head with the containers of salt and pepper, growling when he’d forget to throw the seasonings into the pan with the eggs. By the end of their cooking session, Cor figured he’d be having nightmares about salt and pepper shakers.

After they’d finished their lesson and were sitting there watching Prompto play in a plate of scrambled eggs, most of which was getting on the table rather than in the child’s mouth, Nyx slid a piece of paper over to Cor. “Write down foods you like,” he said with a shrug. “If I’m going to teach you to cook, it might as well be things you’ll eat. At least you’ll get a free meal out of it.”

Cor snorted but took the pen and paper. “Who knows. Maybe by the time this is through I’ll be able to repay you with dinner.”

Nyx laughed. “Marshal, are you hitting on me?”

He blinked and glanced at Nyx with a furrowed brow and a frown, trying to figure out what the other man meant. “I haven’t touched you?”

Nyx was mid-sip on his coffee and choked on the liquid, cursing and stumbling to his feet because it had shot out of his nose. Cor just watched curiously as he disappeared into a different room of the apartment.

* * *

The first week went smoothly enough with the ‘visit’ from the King simply being a report to him at the Citadel on the child’s progress. Nyx did not mention the cooking lessons he was giving to Cor because it seemed a bit more degrading than the other man deserved. In return, Cor didn’t mention Nyx’s ratty apartment or the fact that it probably wasn’t a safe place to have to bring a toddler to get cooking lessons. He probably didn’t think that way, since Cor never suggested a different route to things and they continued as they were.

The weeks that followed were fine as well for nearly a month until problems started to arise. One week, in particular, a little over a month into their arrangement proved a bit more difficult because Nyx found himself working double shifts due to deployments. The first night he’d canceled their lesson had been met without resistance. The second night, he found himself with Cor on his doorstep, Prompto in hand and a bag of take-out.

“I’m not staying,” he stated simply. “But you tend to not eat when you stress out.” It was a small thing he’d noticed over the past month. Nyx had stared at him like he was the biggest idiot alive, and maybe he was, but then he’d moved back and opened the door wider.

“Get in here, you dumbass,” the man grumbled and the two had eaten cold rice and sweet and sour pork. It had given Nyx a chance to vent, bitching about Drautos waiting until the last minute to redistribute the other Glaives’ work.

“Ever thought of transferring?” Cor asked, taking a chance to bring up the thought. “To the Crownsguard?”

Nyx paused; a piece of pork halfway between his teeth. He seemed to mull it over for a moment then bit down on the meat. “Honestly, no. I like working with the Kingsglaive,” he admitted with a shrug. “Drautos is a good leader, if not a bit of an idiot. Between me and Lazarus I think we can eventually get it back in working order while he’s out.” He shrugged and ate some more. “Until then, I guess I’ll just stress out and eat,” he paused and glanced at the side of the container. “Huh. Isn’t this place in the Galahdian Quarter? I’m surprised you managed to order there.”

It was Cor’s turn to shrug. “I walk by it when I come here. I say hello to the owner and wave to her son. When I walked by today I stopped and asked if I could order for a friend who’d been having a rough week.”

“And she let you?”

“She recommended the pork.”

Nyx snorted softly as he looked down at the rice, seemingly surprised. “Huh,” he murmured again and went back to eating.

* * *

“He’s a good boy,” Gerta told him as she flipped more meat on the stove. “He speaks every day he walks through. Which is more than I can say for some of the ones walking the streets these days.” She snorted and pointed her spatula at him. “You were always a good boy growing up, Tobi always liked you, Gods rest his poor soul.”

Nyx gave the older woman a small, sad smile. “I miss Tobi too, Gerta. But Cor isn’t Galahdian, remember that.” When she huffed at him and narrowed her eyes, he held up his hands. “I don’t mean it like that! I just mean he’s not going to understand some of the things we do. Like giving food. It was different in Galahd.”

Gerta pursed her lips together thoughtfully then huffed again. “He’ll learn if he keeps coming around long enough.” She paused thoughtfully then. “Why is he coming around? Is it something to do with the kid he carries?”

“I’m teaching him to cook.”

Another snort. “Speaking of not knowing traditions.”

“It’s not like that,” he growled then sighed. “He doesn’t, well he _didn’t_ even know how to boil water properly. He can’t take care of a kid like that. So I offered to teach him, nothing more, nothing less.”

The old woman laughed so hard her son peered through the door that led to the front counter to check on her. “And when he learns what these mean?”

“He won’t.”

Her smile was wicked. “He will, in time.”

Nyx snorted. “He won’t understand if you tell him. He barely understands _me_ , and my Lucian is better than yours.”

“Ah, young Nyx,” she sighed, smiling at him like he was still the naive child she’d watched run the streets with Libertus. “Still so very stupid.”

“Hey!”

“You do not always need words to convey meaning in Galahd, no? So why would you always need them here?”

Nyx fell silent for a moment, eyeing the older woman warily. “Tell him if you want, likely it will irk him and he’ll stop coming. Then where will you be without your new favorite customer?”

“Jealous, little Phoenix?” she teased. “He is only my _second_ favorite customer now.” She tapped the top of his head with the handle of a spoon and he rolled his eyes at her.

“You’re like the female version of my boss,” he growled and dodged a swipe of her hand with a laugh before jogging out of the kitchen. “Love you too, Aunt Gerta!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to post this chapter because it made me smile.  
> I hope you guys enjoy some Cor 'n' Nyx goodness.


	4. Chapter 4

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 4

“Explain this to me again,” Libertus murmured as he stared at Nyx across the counter.

Nyx rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m teaching the Marshal how to cook because he’s an idiot and there’s a child involved now.”

“And this involves you how?”

“It doesn’t,” Nyx huffed. “He asked for help. I gave it. That simple, Lib. He’s just Lucian and…”

“Stupid?"

Oddly enough, hearing his best friend call Cor stupid made his lip curl slightly. “He’s learning,” he corrected and took another sip from his beer bottle. “He’s picking up on things fairly quickly, it’s just taking a while between the two of us always working. I’m either pulling doubles, being deployed or he’s working late or also being deployed…”

“Who takes care of the brat when he’s out?”

“The King.” Nyx rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I think Regis is keeping his deployments to a minimum for now. He's only gone out once in the past month, and that was just for a day. Honestly, I think he just lets Prompto sleep on the couch in his office.”

Lib chuckled softly as he leaned back, crossing his arms. “So let me get all of this straight.” He paused and held up his hand, counting his list off on his fingers. “You’re giving him food. He’s technically giving you food. Gerta is already taking a shine to him, he brings his kid around, but he doesn’t understand any of our customs or a speck of Galahdian?” When Nyx just stared at him, Lib leaned over the counter. “And you don’t expect the rumor mill to have a field day with this?”

Nyx looked at the ceiling in annoyance. “It’s _not_ like that!” Because Galahd was a culture based around the community. They leaned on each other. Back home they had big get-togethers, everyone fed one another, but for two individuals to do that… For Nyx to have Cor coming to his apartment to ‘feed him’, it was seen as if the two were on more intimate terms to anyone else in the Quarter. But because Nyx was soft and stupid, he did it anyway. Cor bringing him food in return was seen in the same light. “We put way too much weight on the meaning of fucking food,” Nyx grumbled and rubbed his face. “I take it for what it is. Me teaching him how to survive without ordering take out every night.”

“So has he invited you to his place to cook for you?”

It was a completely innocent question. It was also something that had happened only a few nights ago and had left Nyx sputtering in his kitchen because Cor didn’t understand and he sure as fuck wasn’t explaining it.

“The look on your face says ‘yes’.”

“Fuck off, Libertus.”

* * *

_”We have a problem.”_

“My problem,” Nyx mumbled into the phone with a sigh. “Is that you continue to call me in the wee hours of the morning.”

_”At least it isn’t because I set something on fire this time.”_ Cor had the audacity to sound _pleased_ with himself.

It was true though, nothing seemed to be on fire. “So to what pleasure do I owe this phone call at,” he paused to glance at the time. “Two o’clock?”

_”I just got off the phone with Regis.”_

Nyx sat up at that. They were waiting on a few things from the King, namely what he’d decided needed to be done about Niflheim. Almost everyone was in agreement that the country needed to be razed to the ground, but most were loathe to do it when there were still a lot of innocent lives living within the walls of Garlea.

_”Before you get too excited,”_ Cor continued before Nyx could speak. _”It’s not about Garlea. He’s panicking about something else entirely.”_

“Oh good! A new thing to add to the list?”

_”Apparently Aulea is pregnant.”_

Nyx blinked and stared at the ceiling. “Oh. _Oh._ Fuck, he’s going to be useless for the next few months.” That slipped across his tongue before he thought about it and he snapped his mouth closed with a click of his teeth. Shit, he couldn’t just bitch about the King to one of the man’s closest friends. Cor was probably going to-

_”That’s implying he was useful before.”_

-Completely agree with him? Nyx started laughing then, covering his face with his free hand. “Does this mean he’s going to want to practice with Prompto?”

_”He’s already asked.”_

“And you told him yes?”

_”I told him he could fuck off, and then I said yes.”_

Nyx laughed. “This situation is getting more and more absurd by the day, I swear.”

A soft snort sounded over the phone, then a moment of silence followed. _”That wasn’t the only reason I called.”_

“Oh? More news on the homefront?”

_”I’m being deployed tomorrow.”_ There was another stretch of silence and Nyx’s stomach twisted inwards on itself. He was still trying to figure that out when Cor continued. _”I thought I’d ask; since you’ve been helping me with him, if you’d like to keep Prompto until I get back.”_ Another, shorter pause. _”If not that’s fine. I’m sure Regis or Monica won’t mind-”_

“Sure.” Nyx paused for a moment then laughed. “I guess I’ll stir up some rumors around the Galahd Quarter, but I don’t mind.”

_”I’ll bring him by before work then.”_

* * *

Prompto was adorable, even when he was half asleep and staring at Nyx with bleary blue eyes. Someone had given him a plush toy of probably one of the cutest, scariest creatures alive in their world.

A Tonberry.

“Monica?”

Cor snorted. “Monica.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt more threatened by something in my entire life,” Nyx mumbled as he took Prompto who immediately snuggled into him with a happy sigh. He smiled down at the toddler, patting his back gently. “So I guess no cooking lessons for a bit?” He didn’t really think about it as fishing for information, more of an excuse to see how long Cor was going to be gone.

The other man just shrugged. “I should only be gone for a few days.” He paused for a moment, a curious look crossing his face. “If you need to, you can take him to Monica.”

“Nah, I got him. I’m free for at least the next month. I pissed Drautos off on purpose after he got back, so now I’m on desk duty as punishment.” He gave his best sheepish grin.

Cor snorted, one corner of his mouth quirking upwards slightly. “Careful, he might force you on a mission with me.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “I wonder why he always used that as punishment.”

Nyx stared at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s because they thought they’d die if they ate anything you cooked?”

“I took ration packets-”

“My point still stands.”

Cor snorted and paused when he saw Prompto glancing up at him. He leaned down slightly so he was eye-level with the child. “Be good for Nyx, ok?” He reached out and ruffled the mass of blond hair. “I’ll try to not take too terribly long.”

Nyx shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, he’s a good kid. If you get caught up with more stuff just call me. But,” he said quickly as Cor started to turn out of the door. “Can it _not_ be before dawn?”

The Marshal laughed, something that seemed to surprise even him. He blinked, glanced at Nyx then shrugged. “I’m not making any promises.” Then he was gone, the door closing behind him.

Nyx narrowed his eyes because he was pretty sure he saw a ghost of a smile on the Marshal’s face before he left. “I vote for going back to bed, eh Prom?” he mumbled, moving towards his bedroom with the toddler. “And then we’re finding you a different plush to cling to. I’m scared that thing's going to stab me in the back.”

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait," Libertus huffed as he stared at the blond toddler who was playing with a recently acquired stuffed coeurl toy and half-watching some cartoon Nyx had put on the TV. "You're babysitting now too? Nyx…"

"I mean, the King did kinda put _both_ of us in charge of him, Lib." Nyx honestly didn't see the problem. Rumors would start, sure, but they would die eventually. He didn't much care what the others in the Quarter thought, and it would give them something else to bitch about besides the war.

Libertus didn't seem to think so, staring at the kid quietly. "I mean, I guess? But still…"

"He'll be back within the week, and everyone will forget I was carrying around a cute blond-haired toddler and move on to the next bit of juicy gossip, like what Tredd and Axis are actually doing."

"You're so far behind on that drama," Lib laughed. "Tredd found out Axis was cheating on him with some rough-neck Lucian he met at a bar, so now he's trying to crawl into Sonitus' bed."

Nyx made a face. "Sonitus is straight."

"Tell Tredd that."

Nyx rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "How is Pelna?"

"Lusting after some Lucian woman apparently," Lib fussed. "I don't remember her name, Pelna seems to think she put the godsdamned moon in the sky. She works at the Citadel."

"That explains where he disappears to during training. The shithead. I'm going to slip during practice and kick him in the dick."

That got a laugh out of Lib as he stood to walk towards Nyx's apartment door. "You sure you're good with Leonis Junior over here?" He asked when he paused at the door. "And can I get the rumor going now so I can get the full enjoyment of it?"

Nyx rolled his eyes again. "Do whatever you want. And yes, I'll be fine with him." He watched and smiled faintly as Prompto turned to look at Libertus, gave the man his brightest smile and waved.

"Okay, he is cute," Lib conceded, waving back at Prompto before closing the door.

* * *

"I've only known him for kind of a month," Nyx bitched, frowning over his plate of food.

"Which is plenty of time to unknowingly develop a crush on someone," Gerta pointed out as she played with Prompto who was happily sitting in the old woman's lap. "Plenty of time to get attached to this little tyke too."

"I do not have a crush. Prompto is cute and I am kinda attached to the little guy," Nyx grumbled as he watched Prom clap his hands and grin up at Gerta. "Just because I fed the man doesn't mean anything."

Gerta paused in her play to level him with one of her all-knowing stares. "We're not just talking about food anymore, boy. You're helping him with this little one." She turned her gaze back to Prom. "When children are involved, the rules change."

Nyx snorted and watched Prompto play in Gerta's lap. "It doesn't change anything."

"He trusts you with him."

"The King entrusted his care to both of us, not just Cor alone."

The old woman made a sound that landed somewhere in the area of a laugh and a snort. It actually sounded painful. "He trusts you with him. And you mean to tell me if, for some reason, this Marshal couldn't take care of the boy anymore, you wouldn't step up to offer? You'd just let the Lucian King do with him however he deemed fit?"

Nyx narrowed his eyes and tried to find a way to change the topic. "I wouldn't have a say in the matter, Gerta. He'd likely give the boy to his shield."

"He would go to you," she pointed out. "You are the other person he is close to, the one that he looks for when he can't find his Marshal. You've only known the boy and the man for perhaps a month, but you are the one they turn to." She paused then smirked at him. "And call before dawn."

"Libertus needs to keep his godsdamned mouth shut."

Gerta cackled then sucked on her teeth. "You should know better, Little Phoenix. That boy was half the reason you stayed in trouble back home."

That was true. Lib had always been a rat, but Nyx loved him anyway. Most of his memories with the other man were quite fond, even if a lot of the later ones had been them fighting for their lives and their home. 

“My statement still stands,” Gerta said, bringing Nyx’s attention back from the past and to her. In her lap, Prompto had turned and was looking towards him. His hands immediately rose in the air, grabbing towards him. Nyx, without saying a word, stood and walked over, taking the boy from the now grinning woman. “There are two people that are constant in his life, you and the Marshal. No matter what you say or do, that boy is just as much yours as he is Leonis’.”

Nyx stayed quiet, watching as Prompto popped his thumb into his mouth and cuddled into his chest, ready for a nap. He couldn’t really argue, not with Gerta. She’d always win in an argument because she just _knew_. “Still doesn’t mean I have a crush,” he grumbled defiantly.

The old woman burst into a cackle of laughter, slapping her knee. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, boy.”

* * *

“Regis asked to look after him tomorrow while I’m working. It’ll work out, I can pick him up when I get ready to leave,” Nyx said into the phone that was carefully caught between his cheek and shoulder while he attempted to cook _and_ carry a toddler on his hip.

_”Believe it or not, Regis is actually good with him. But I think Clarus let him play with Gladio a lot.”_ Cor’s voice came over his phone in its usually lack-luster candor. He sounded bored to death despite the other voices that were in the background talking amongst themselves.

“Not enjoying yourself?”

Cor snorted. _“They are too loud. I’d rather be home where it’s quite.”_ A small pause followed before, _”Did he behave today?”_

“Was a perfect little angel. I even took him grocery shopping with me.”

The Marshal actually chuckled. _”Humor me, let me talk to him.”_

Nyx narrowed his eyes slightly. “Uh, sure. Hold on.” Pulling the food off the stove and setting it to the side, he carefully moved over to the couch and placed Prom on the seat and caught his phone in his hand. Peering over the screen, he found the speaker button and pressed it before lowering the phone down in front of Prompto who immediately placed both of his chubby hands on either side of it. Nyx held onto the top, having learned for experience that a toddler would quite happily throw something across the room. “Okay Cor, you’re on speaker.”

_“Prompto.”_ That same, droning tone Cor always spoke in came across the phone and Nyx watched quietly as Prom’s eyes went from looking up at him curiously to looking directly at the phone. He burbled softly and made a happy baby sound at the phone. _”You keep being good for Nyx, alright?”_ Prompto stuck out his tongue and sputtered happily at the phone. _”Good boy, good night.”_

Nyx stayed dead silent during the entire exchange, staring down at his phone in quiet wonder then back at the child who seemed completely content to shove his hand back into his mouth.

_”Nyx?”_  
He pulled the phone back up to his ear, taking it off speaker. “Yeah?”

_”Thanks. I should be back soon, this mission isn’t anything spectacular.”_

Nyx snorted softly, ruffling Prompto’s hair before going to fix him a plate of food. “Don’t worry, just be careful doing whatever you’re doing. Good night, Marshal.”

“Goodnight.”


	5. Chapter 5

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 5

A week with Prompto proved several things to Nyx. That he was tied around the little boy’s finger, and so was half the community after he finished walking the town with him. Gerta would always dote on the boy, she doted on all children, but because Nyx had some type of claim to this child, she doted on him just that much more. Libertus finally fell for Prom’s charms after the tyke decided to climb into his lap for a nap one afternoon in Nyx’s apartment. Crowe loved him from the beginning and named herself his official godmother, even though Nyx told her it would be up to Cor.

“You’re technically his other parent,” she’d told him. “Your voice carries just as much weight as the Marshal’s.”

Nyx relented after that, letting Crowe have her way because that was the easiest thing to do in life most times.

Prompto became the star of the Galahd Quarter rather quickly, which didn’t help quell the rumors that had started burning. Not that he could do anything about them, so he didn’t bother. Once Prom was back with Cor the remarks would die down, though he was sure others would ask where the tyke was

Gerta’s restaurant was quickly becoming a refuge when he didn’t feel like being home or needed a break from Prom, though oddly enough the kid was so well behaved Nyx was beginning to wonder if something was wrong.

“He’s just a good boy,” Gerta told him when he asked, huffing. “He sees someone smile, knows he did good and goes on about his business.”

Nyx frowned but had to agree. “It’s just, I know when I was little Lib and I always got into trouble,” he grumbled thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have anyone his age to be around?”

Gerta hummed thoughtfully, rubbing her chin. “Possible. I suppose once your King’s child is born he’ll have a playmate.” When Nyx made a face at her she cackled. “You already know he’s going to ask.”

“He already _has_! And Cor’s not here to yell at him yet.”

“How much longer until the esteemed Marshal returns?”

Nyx narrowed his eyes again at her. “Esteemed Marshal? Since when?” When she just grinned at him, he rolled his eyes. “Supposed to be tomorrow, but I know something was taking them a little longer than usual. I’ll find out tonight when he calls.”

* * *

That call usually came at the same time every night. Shortly after dinner but right before Prom’s bath. Nyx watched the toddler curiously as he peered down at the phone, head tilted and waiting because for the past week, at this time, Cor’s voice had always risen from it and made him smile. He frowned instead at the phone, and when Nyx walked over and asked for the phone, Prom ignored him in favor of burbling at it expectantly.

“C’mon buddy. It’s bath time then bedtime, yeah?” Nyx murmured, watching that lower lip tremble and wondering if he should give Cor a tongue lashing for being the cause. He couldn’t help but be a little worried since Cor had made a routine of calling at a certain time. All he could hope for was that he’d just been held up by something and would call later.

Nyx was laying in bed, staring up at his ceiling when his phone finally buzzed. He paused, glancing at Cor’s name as it lit the screen and the time. Close to midnight. He answered, wondering if he should fuss now or later.

 _“Sorry,”_ was the exhausted apology that met him when he answered, killing any thought of reprimand. _”Took longer than I thought to finish tonight.”_

Nyx sat up. “It’s fine. Wasn’t even asleep. Everything okay?”

There was a pause, a sigh and then a grumble before Cor answered. _“If I tell you I’m not going to murder Regis, and then I do. Is it still treason?”_

“Ah, it was _that_ kind of problem.”

Another snort sounded over the phone. _”How was Prompto?”_

“Have you ever seen an adorable toddler frown at a phone for ten minutes then pout about it?” 

_”No?”_

“It’s fucking adorable, and he was upset but didn’t fuss too much. He’s asleep now.”

There was a moment of silence over the phone before Cor sighed. _”Sorry if he caused you any trouble. I should be back tomorrow afternoon after I file my report if everything goes as it should.”_

“Don’t jinx yourself,” Nyx joked. “Take your time, I don’t mind watching the little guy. It’s actually been kind of nice all week. Usually, I’m just kind of here by myself, nice to have someone to talk to that doesn’t tell me I’m an asshole.” Cor snorted, but Nyx heard the chuckle under it. “Anyway, I know he misses you, so I’ll say hurry back, but at the same time if you need some rest first do that. It won’t hurt him to go another day or two with me. I haven’t spoiled him that much. Gerta on the other hand…”

_“Gerta?”_

“You know that shop you pass by and speak to the owner and her son?” Nyx waited for a grunt to float across the phone before continuing. “That’s Gerta. She’s taken a shine to Prom and I usually take him by there to visit. She has a thing for ‘strays’ as she calls them. She practically raised Lib and me.” He stretched out along the bed and stifled a yawn behind his hand. “Alright, Marshal. Try to sleep and get home in one piece?”

_”I think I can handle that.”_

* * *

It took Cor a little longer to get home than he’d planned. They’d run into a group of Imperials they’d had to dispatch. Nyx understood, happened all the time to him because Imperials loved their dropships and their mechs.

The look on Prompto’s face when Cor finally arrived home and still dirty to pick him up was _priceless_.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen that particular look on his face before,” Nyx stated while trying very hard not to let the laughter locked at the back of his throat escape. “He looks particularly scandalized.”

Prom had what Nyx theorized was the toddler’s version of a glare on his tiny, chubby face. The effects of which were quite the opposite of being threatening. It was quite honestly adorable by all definitions of the word.

“That’s the look I give him when he’s doing something I don’t want him to,” Cor explained, and Nyx had to wheeze to keep from laughing. Crouching down in the doorway, Cor crossed his arms over his knees and watched Prompto. “Hey Prom, sorry it took me so long.” The toddler watched him but made no move to come to the Marshal. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and huffed.

Nyx bit down on his lower lip to keep from laughing and turned his head slightly to the side. Prom was going to be a little terror just to get back at Cor and it was the funniest thing he’d witnessed in a while. “Tell ya what,” Nyx chuckled. “Go take a shower,” he paused long enough to point at the door to the bathroom. “And I’ll sweet talk him into not being in a bad mood?”

Cor raised an eyebrow skeptically. “You’re going to talk him out of being mad?”

“I have learned the art of toddler herding while you were away, Marshal. I don’t appreciate that tone.”

Cor shrugged and stood up. “Whatever floats your Garula.”

Nyx paused and frowned. “Can those things even swim?” Cor just shrugged and walked into the bathroom, closing the door. With a snort, Nyx turned back to the huffy Prompto and walked over to him. “What’s the matter bud? I thought you’d be happy to see Cor?”

Prompto, still one for only small burbles and little gestures he’d obviously learned from Cor, just made a little huffing sound that sounded a lot like a ‘sigh’ before crawling into Nyx’s lap to cuddle against his chest. Patting the boy’s back, Nyx relaxed against the sofa and let himself be cuddled. It was getting late now that Nyx thought about it, and all the puffed cheeks and glares could simply be because the boy was tired. Giving in, Nyx buried his nose amongst the mass of blond hair on the crown of Prom’s head and breathed in, wrapping his arms around the toddler. Prompto wiggled closer and settled into him with a little yawn and Nyx smiled.

Prom was a good kid. It didn’t matter if Cor had found him in some lab in the middle of Niflheim territory.

The door opening to the bathroom roused him from his light doze and he cracked his eye open just enough to see Cor walk out in his usual fatigues and not the Crownsguard uniform he’d been sporting earlier. Which was good since the thing was filthy. He probably kept a change of clothes in the armiger. Most Crowns and Glaives did these days.

The Marshal paused at the bathroom door, and though Nyx couldn’t see his face he felt the weight of Cor’s gaze fall on him and had to fight off the way his shoulders wanted to stiffen. He stayed quiet, watching the fuzzy image of Cor’s legs as they shifted then walked closer and then he felt the couch dip slightly when the other man sat. There was a strange moment where Cor actually seemed to relax, stretching his legs out a little bit before settling back against the back of the couch before Nyx bothered to move, turning his head just enough to look at him.

Cor was staring up at the ceiling, his head leaning back with one arm resting on the armrest while the other stretched along the back. He seemed perfectly content there, and Nyx wasn’t about to tell him he could just wander off back home. Probably because he’d gotten used to Prom kind of being there now.

“If you’re hungry,” he paused to give the Marshal a little bit of a crooked smile when Cor tensioned and cut his eyes sharply towards him. He wasn’t the only one that was willingly dozing off on the couch. “There’s leftovers in the fridge.” Cor made a humming sound, sighed then peeled himself off the couch, turning towards the kitchen. “And don’t,” Nyx grumbled, causing Cor to pause mid-step. “Fucking put metal in my microwave, Marshal.”

Cor snorted, though it sounded an awful lot like a chuckle.

* * *

Cor fell asleep on his couch.

Nyx would have found it abundantly funny if he hadn't also fallen asleep on his couch.

He woke with his head resting on the opposite armrest of the couch and Prompto curled up against his stomach. Cor was on the other end of the couch, discarded plate of food sitting on the end table beside him while his head was balanced on his fist. It couldn’t have been comfortable, Nyx felt like someone had hit him with a tuck, but the other man seemed quite content to stay there.

Yawning, Nyx shifted Prompto carefully so he was laying on the couch with his face smooshed into a pillow, drooling happily onto the fabric. He’d barely stretched when he heard Libertus’ voice trailing down the hallway and groaned.

“Shit.”

Going to his door, Nyx carefully unlocked it and opened it before his best friend could even think to knock and wake the sleeping Marshal or Prom, carefully closing it behind him just as Lib caught sight of him.

“You look like shit. What did you do? Sleep on the couch?”

“Actually,” Nyx grumbled then yawned again. He glanced down long enough to see the drool stain on his shirt and frowned. “Yeah, I was sitting there with Prom and fell asleep. What’s up?”

Lib rolled his eyes at him. “Drautos has me putting a team together to go to Lestallum to dispatch a few problem critters,” he explained. “Your desk duties for the week have been excused for said mission, so it's me, you, Crowe and Pelna.”

Nyx made a face at his best friend and snorted. “Gods don’t bring Pelna, he’s going to pout about his lady love the whole trip.”

“Actually, that’s why I’m bringing him. He’s been cooped up in the barracks for the last week because whoever it is he’s mooning over is on a mission and he hasn’t seen her in a while. Drautos is hoping us going out and doing something will get him back on his feet.” He frowned a little then. “If not, apparently he’s been threatened with being sent on a mission with that Marshal of yours.”

Nyx sighed and rolled his eyes. “Stop calling him that, and why? Because he’s pining?”

“Drautos is getting sick of it. Says its distracting.”

It kinda was. Pelna had this thing where he’d just sit there and sigh softly until you wanted to punch him. “So it’s either we whip him back into shape, or off to the Marshal’s office he goes.”

“Who’s being sent to my office?”

Nyx’s shriek was only overshadowed by Libertus’, who grabbed him and dragged him away from the door like he was pulling him out of harm’s way, then stood there panting, staring up at Cor like he was some mythical beast that had just appeared out of nowhere. Then it registered, who he was looking at, and he slid his narrowed gaze from Cor’s curious stare to Nyx who just raised an eyebrow at Cor and frowned. “I’m going to tie a bell on you so I can hear you moving around.”

“I wasn’t even trying to be quiet.”

Nyx scoffed, but his attention was drawn past Cor when he heard a giggle come from across the threshold. The smile that lit his face when he saw Prom should have lit the room like the sun was rising in it. “Hey, bud! Have a good sleep?” He moved passed Cor like he wasn’t even standing in the doorway and scooped the toddler up happily.

Libertus watched all of this happen from the hallway, peering into Nyx’s apartment past Cor who was still standing in the doorway. Letting his gaze slide from Nyx’s back, Lib glanced up at Cor, intending to answer his question but paused because Cor wasn’t paying him a bit of attention and was instead watching Nyx.

With a snort, he turned and started down the hallway, shaking his head because Gerta was right and his best friend and the Marshal were complete fucking morons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (๑・ω-)～♥”


	6. Chapter 6

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 6

“You should have seen them,” Lib groused as he plopped down in a chair at Gerta’s restaurant. He loved the old woman and her meddlesome ways. Most times she was a worse gossip than himself. “Cor was practically melting over him cooing at Prom. Hell, I wish I had someone looking at _me_ like that.”

“Maybe you do,” Crowe stated, then laughed when he sent her an exasperated stare. “Maybe you’re just not seeing it, like those two.”

He snorted and turned his attention to Gerta who was grinning from ear to ear. “You’re certain he still thinks it’s all just a fluke?” When she nodded, he groaned. “Idiots! Both of them!” Laying his head down on the table, Lib tried to think but kept drawing a blank. How were they supposed to get those two to realize something that was so fucking obvious to everyone else? And was it even a good idea? What if they were bad for each other and Lib was helping hand his best friend over to a world of hurt? Nyx had enough of that for a lifetime, he didn’t need more.

“Are there any Lucian things that the Marshal does that are like our customs?” Crowe asked thoughtfully. “Like, I get bringing the kid around is a big deal, but Nyx was also given guardianship of him.”

Libertus shrugged. “Not like we’re the lead authority on Lucian culture here. I’m gonna hazard a guess that the Marshal staying the night was a pretty big thing? I mean, it should be. To them, it's probably just another drop in the domestic shit bucket they are shoveling.”

“You’re sure he wasn’t just there early?”

Lib made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded a bit like an offended scoff. “His clothes were wrinkled and there was still sleep crusted in his eyes. I’m pretty fuckin’ sure.”

Crowe sighed and played with the straw in her drink. “Well, I guess we could ask Pelna. He’s been dating that Lucian woman for a bit now.”

“He’s been _pining_ after her,” Lib corrected.

“Either way, he has more knowledge of their culture than we do at this point. It couldn’t hurt.”

* * *

Pelna Khara and all his lanky, casualness slid into one of the empty chairs half an hour later with an easy-going smile on his face. Gerta greeted him with her usual candor, offering him food that he happily accepted.

“What was this ‘emergency’ you kept alluding to?” he questioned after taking a bite of food.

“What are some Lucian mating rituals?”

Pelna stared at Lib like he’d grown an extra head. “What the fuck are you talking about, Ostium?”

Crowe rolled her eyes and punched Lib in the shoulder, earning an undignified yelp. “Ignore him, he’s just being an asshole. Let me explain.” As she did, Lib watched Pelna’s expression change from confused interest to pure amusement.

“Sounds like they are doing fine to me.”

Libertus groaned and frowned. “We know they are, but they are too stupid to realize it!” he complained. “We were trying to come up with ways he could show Cor he’s interested in Lucian terms, or at least use them to prove to him that the Marshal is.”

“And you’re certain he is?” Pelna paused to take another bite of food. “Interested in our Nyx, I mean.”

“Dude,” Lib murmured, staring at him dead in the eye. “If you had seen the way he was watching Nyx with Prom this morning…”

Pelna snorted but smiled a little. “Ah, the little prodigy that has slowly crawled into the withered heart of Galahd herself. Well, I’m not sure about Lucian ‘mating rituals’, but I could give some date ideas?” he offered. “Lucian’s like talking to each other,” he paused and held up his hand when Lib opened his mouth. “I am well aware of who Cor Leonis is and his mannerisms. Monica talks about him and honestly,” he sighed and rolled his eyes. “She acts more like him than she thinks. That being said, no he won’t be much of a talker unless he feels like it, but he’ll like to _listen_. If they go out to eat and he listens to Nyx and even offers advice or talks about his day, that’s a strong indication on his part.”

“Hell, he’s already over at Nyx’s every other day for cooking lessons. I’m more than a little certain he stayed over last night, by accident or by choice,” Lib murmured and sipped his drink.

“They are comfortable with each other,” Pelna explained. “That’s a good start. Hm, with Prompto in the picture, they could take him to the park?” When Lib and Crowe continued to watch him expectantly he sighed. “Don’t try to push them together,” he warned. “This may just be a close friendship they discovered while mutually bonding over the child. Let them go at their own pace. They’ll figure it out.”

Libertus and Crowe both snorted. “And if they don’t?” Crowe asked. “What then?”

“They’ll figure it out,” Gerta offered with a wide grin.

“Who’s figuring what out?” a new voice asked and the three turned to look towards the door just as Nyx ducked through. He paused when all eyes shifted onto him and frowned a little. “Are y’all gossiping again?”

Behind him, the door moved and like a silent shadow, Cor slipped into the space behind Nyx. When his friends gazes slid from him to Cor, Nyx glanced over his shoulder at the older man. “They are gossiping,” he complained. “I don’t know about what, but they are!”

Cor gave a small snort, earning a soft giggle from the bundle he was carrying. His icy gaze did a quick sweep of the room, pausing on Gerta. “Good morning.”

The older woman grinned at him. “Mornin’! Good to see my two favorite customers.” She paused and slid Nyx a sly look. “And you too, Nyx.”

Nyx blinked then sputtered. “When did I get knocked down the list?” he whined then pointed at the blond head of soft curls being carried by Cor. “He can’t even order his own food yet!”

Lib rolled his eyes and turned towards Pelna who was staring at the Marshal with a look of amazement as the man chuckled at Nyx. As soon as he turned and looked back at Lib, he started shaking his head. _[“You’re right.”]_ he said, speaking Galahdian. _[“I see what you mean.”]_

_[“So rude to talk another language in front of customers,”]_ Gerta chided teasingly, bringing both their attention to the fact Cor was glancing their way curiously. _[“I’m surprised he hasn’t asked Nyx to teach him yet.”]_

“I’m going to now, just because you’re all rude,” Nyx sniffed, speaking Lucian and glanced at Cor. “If you want to learn, anyway.” The offer was made in a slightly lighter, more timid tone as if he were afraid Cor would outright refuse the opportunity. 

Cor frowned, and for a few short seconds, there was a tangible tension in the air. “I don’t know how well I’d do, but if it’s okay for me to learn…” He trailed off, watching the others at the table, specifically Gerta.

It took Lib a moment to realize he was seeking permission from the only elder in their group. His respect for the Marshal rose immediately. “Sure,” he said first, the others echoing him “It’ll be funny hearing you pronounce everything wrong.”

“Lib!” Nyx protested, glaring.

“But then I’ll teach you all the _best_ swears.” Lib grinned because he was pretty sure he saw Cor eyes light up at that prospect.

* * *

“So wait, you already know Pelna because he’s seeing your subordinate?” Nyx asked as he cleaned rice off Prompto’s face, though the child quickly replaced it with more. At Cor’s nod, Nyx turned to look at Khara. “You,” he murmured in awe. “Are seeing Monica.” When Pelna just smiled at him, Nyx blinked and snorted. “Huh. And he’s not dead yet?”

The question was directed at Cor, who just shrugged. “Guess he made a good impression.”

“Swept her off her feet.” Pelna looked so pleased with himself.

“Running her over in the hallway doesn’t count,” Nyx deadpanned, staring at the other Glaive.

Pelna stared back at him wide-eyed, sputtered indignantly at Nyx then pouted, turning his back on both Ulric and Leonis. “Well I can tell when my presence is unwanted,” he declared but winked at Lib. “Guess I should head to work. C’mon Lib, you were gonna show me that shop.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, c’ mon. Thanks, Aunt Gerta!” Taking the lead and waving farewell to the older woman, Lib lead Pelna out of the restaurant, Crowe joining them shortly after. “So,” Lib asked after they were a good ways away with no sign of being followed. “How far gone are they, in your professional opinion?”

Pelna snorted. “Those two are the biggest, most clueless idiots I’ve ever met,” he huffed then laughed. “I’m gonna tell Nyx about that park I mentioned. Kinda hint he should take Prompto and Cor. Get some fresh air.”

“What good will that do?” Lib murmured, brow furrowed.

“I need evidence to show Monica! She’s gonna _love_ this.” And perhaps help. She was, after all, the Marshal’s second in command.

* * *

Monica, Pelna decided as he sat in her office, was a gem. A precious, rare diamond that could only be found in one place on Eos. When he’d explained everything that was going on, she had stared at him blankly then asked if he was sure. When he’d told her what he’d seen at the restaurant a few hours prior, she’d fallen silent.

“He laughed?”

“It was more of a chuckle. He also asked permission to learn Galahdian. I know that doesn’t seem like a big deal-”

“That’s a really big deal,” she murmured, perplexed, then shot him a reprimanding look when he stared at her. “I looked into things,” she murmured. “I know Galahd is a special place with customs of its own. Him asking to learn the language, to step through that door and bridge the gap between your people and ours is a big step for him.”

“And Gerta already likes him, so he’s already got his foot in the door,” he pointed out then laughed. “So now the others are just trying to figure out how to get them to realize they like each other. I told them to wait and see how far they get on their own.”

Monica’s snort was telling. “They’ve been co-raising Prompto for what, a month now? A little longer? I’m pretty sure if Ulric swung a bat at the Marshal’s head with ‘I like you’ engraved on it, he’d still miss the fucking point.”

Pelna took a deep breath and sighed, leaning forward so he could stare into those deep brown eyes. “Gods above, I do love you.”

She frowned mightily at him. “Stop that. I heard tell that you were mooning over your ‘lover’ the entire time I was gone. Drautos bitched to Cor about it for an hour straight.”

“Ah, and one day Cor will moon over Nyx while he’s out in the wilds smacking daemons and other monsters with those daggers of his.”

“I don’t think the Marshal is one to moon…”

Pelna laughed then and grinned at her. “I don’t know, Elshett. You haven’t seen the two of them together. Which is why I have planned our top secret mission for this afternoon.” When all Monica did was tilt her head, his smile grew. “I texted Nyx a picture of a kids park near the Citadel and told him he should take Prom some time, and since Leonis is back from his mission, he’ll of course join. I just have to wait for Lib to tell me when he’s going and then we’ll go spy on them like a couple of weird stalkers.”

Monica, bless her soul, snorted. “Why Khara. Are you asking me on a date to the park to spy on my boss?”

Pelna cackled and grinned at her. There was, after all, a reason the two of them were still together, and it wasn’t because either of them were innocent little saints. Monica had a mischevious streak a mile wide in her when it came to fucking around with Cor Leonis. Pelna loved that about her. “Only if you’re agreeing that it is a very good date.”

“It is an _excellent_ date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So quick note, I’m going to take a little break from posting (just a week, so I won’t be posting anything until the following Monday). Mainly because I’ve been sick (I think I’ve got bronchitis, yay), and because storms have been hitting my state these last few days so hard that it’s been knocking my power out, and because my computer is old, its annoying to have to restart it (I have to swap around my RAM, unplug my GPU, it’s annoying and I’m stashing away money to build a new one). SO I’m doing the majority of my writing in a notebook until all these storms breeze on by.
> 
> This also gives me a chance to back-log some writing. I’m going to try and _mostly_ write on RiM to go ahead and get it through its final stages because it’s going to hit its climax soon and start winding down. Then I can actually focus on some of the other 500 things I have going.
> 
> That said:  
> [Click here to Vote for stuff.](https://strawpoll.com/66ygxb5x)
> 
> Vote for what will come after I finish off one of my other CorNyx projects. :D  
> (There are others in the works as well, but these have the most defined time-lines so far.)


	7. Chapter 7

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 7

The park, Nyx decided, was really nice. There were a lot of things a child Prompto’s size could play on. So far his favorite thing seemed to be riding around on Cor’s shoulders, giving him a bird’s eye view of most of the park. Nyx decided it was probably his favorite thing as well because every now-and-then Cor would tilt his head back a little when Prom babbled at him excitedly about something he’d seen and Cor would respond as if the tyke were making perfect sense.

“Weird question,” Nyx ventured as they looped passed the sandbox. “But would you be opposed to me teaching Prom Galahdian?”

Cor shrugged his shoulders, which earned a happy squeal from Prompto. “I don’t mind, though I would have trouble understanding him.”

“I’d teach you at the same time, dumbass,” Nyx huffed, then yelped, his hand slapping over his mouth. “Sorry!”

When Cor’s icy gaze landed on him, he didn’t seem mad, but Nyx wasn’t all that sure until the Marshal opened his mouth. “What for?”

“I called you a dumbass?”

Cor snorted and gave Nyx a dry look. “Oh. My fragile feelings. I’ll have to call Regis and let him know how badly you’ve wounded me.”

Nyx stared at him in awe for a moment because Cor Leonis was _teasing_ him. “Do you have a fever or something, Marshal? Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

Cor raised his eyebrow, but the ghost of a smile curved the corner of his mouth. “I’ve been called worse than a dumbass, Ulric.”

“That may be so, but you outrank me, like, _a lot_. I can’t just go around calling commanding officers names like that.”

Cor rolled his eyes and gave him a disparaging look. “Are you the same Nyx Ulric that Commander Drautos warned me was, and I quote, ‘an insubordinate little shit’?”

Nyx tried to look offended but ended up laughing instead. “Aw, I didn’t know Titus cared! I should send him flowers.” When he saw Cor’s slight smile turn downwards into a frown, Nyx snorted. “He’s allergic to lilies,” he explained, then laughed again when Cor realized what that detail meant.

“Do you and Drautos not get along?”

“On the contrary,” Nyx laughed. “I play a prank, he gives me extra work. I piss him off, he sticks me on traffic duty. We’re talking about a man that could hand my ass to me twice over. If anything, I think it keeps him on his toes. That and I think the weird asshole enjoys it.”

“Huh,” Cor murmured then lifted his head slightly when Prom started babbling from his shoulders excitedly. “What is it, Prom?” he asked, watching in amusement as one chubby arm reached passed his face off to the side. Turning to see what had the boy so excited, Cor paused when he saw a shallow wading pool behind a fence. In that pool was what had caught Prompto’s attention.

Chocobo chicks.

Three were splashing in the water happily while an adult stood beside them. Off to the side was a man who Cor assumed was the handler. He watched over the bathing birds from the edge of the pool.

“Huh, must be a farmer from the edge of the city. You don’t usually see Chocobos this far into Insomnia,” Nyx mumbled and laughed as Prompto cooed and tried his best to ‘kweh’ and ‘wark’ like the creatures. “Why are you so cute, runt?” Nyx teased, holding his arm up and earning a chuckle from Cor when Prom practically crawled over his head into Nyx’s grasp. He waited and watched, smiling faintly as Nyx walked closer to the pool where the Chocobo and its chicks bathed.

As he watched, the back of his neck felt hot. Reaching back and scratching, he took a moment to glance around. There was no one else around and for a moment he felt a little silly, but he turned his attention back to Nyx and Prompto anyway, letting his eyes rove the area around them for danger. He had the weirdest sensation that someone was watching them.

* * *

“Did he see us?” Pelna whispered, peeking up from where Monica had shoved him down.

“No, but he’s on high alert,” she murmured, watching as Cor turned his attention back towards Nyx and Prompto. “He’ll notice if we move. We’ll have to wait it out.” With a sigh, she settled back against the tree they’d been sitting by, spying on her boss and Nyx. They’d done everything they could think of to make themselves less noticeable to the two. Cor and Nyx were both highly trained meat vessels of destructive power after all. They’d dressed casually, Monica using a hat to cover her head, while Pelna had a scarf pulled around the lower half of his face. The problem was that even for casual citizens of Insomnia they still put off the aura of ‘highly trained individual’. Even an idiot like Cor would pick up on it eventually.

“Well, while we’re here, let’s analyze the situation,” Pelna suggested, pulling out a little notebook because, _of course,_ he was keeping notes. “They were carrying on a good conversation, I heard Nyx laugh,” he pointed out.

Monica snorted. “He’s besotted,” she stated simply. When Pelna stared at her from over his notebook, she rolled her eyes. “Look at him, Khara. See how he’s gone into a protective mode? Nyx is a skilled warrior.”

“I mean, sure,” Pelna shrugged. “But he does have Prom.”

“Who he’d take back if he thought any harm would come to him. No, he trusts Nyx to protect him. He, however, is protecting them both.”

Pelna looked back out across the park, taking in the stance and position the Marshal had taken up. He was in an optimal spot to view any approaching threat, his stance shifting slightly now-and-then, a subtle change no one would really notice, but one that allowed him to look in another direction. He’d scan one direction then his eyes would drift back towards the wading pool where Nyx was laughing at Prompto while he was being introduced to the yellow birds. Even from a distance, Pelna could tell Cor was smiling.

“Lost cause, eh?”

Monica snorted but smiled a little. “Drowning as we speak. It’s nice though. He’s usually always by himself, quiet and aloof. He does the King’s bidding and goes back to his office. Nyx and Prom are new things, a wrench thrown into his usual inner workings. It’s kinda cute watching him tip-toe around the two of them.

Pelna couldn’t help it and laughed. “You make it sound like he talks about them at work.” When Monica stayed quiet, he glanced over at her. “Does he?”

“He was worried that he’s not spending enough time with Prom but didn’t want to hinder Nyx spending time with him. Of course, that means then he was worried about relying _too much_ on Ulric.” She paused and smiled, a smile that told Pelna she’d teased Cor after this conversation and he was pretty sure he was falling _more_ in love with her.

“What did you do, Elshett?”

“Oh, you know. Told him maybe he and Nyx should just raise Prom together.”

“I…” Pelna paused and stared at her. “What did he say?”

Monica laughed. It was the most beautifully evil thing Pelna had ever heard.

“Nothing,” she answered finally. “But he was _thinking_ about it, and that was enough.”

* * *

Cor was a patient man. Or at least he thought he was. Both Regis and Clarus liked to remind him that no one else in the Citadel though he was. It had become a rather sadistic game as of late. Find the worst complaint on him. It was insane, the sheer amount of petty bullshit someone would report.

For example, Drautos. Titus had found the little paper trail he’d thoughtlessly left behind in his attempt to try and slip Ulric out from under him. Drautos had filed a complaint but had also confronted Cor about the situation. Apparently staring at him blankly and asking ‘what the fuck are you talking about?’ while playing at being innocent of such a travesty was offensive.

No. He was patient because of the idiots he worked with. Three of which were approaching him now. Two of them were Galahdian and friends of Nyx. He would try to be nice, even if they were loud and rambunctious idiots. The third wasn’t technically an idiot, but Monica was letting Pelna cling to her arm like a lost child, making puppy-eyes up at her, so she got lumped in with them too.

Ulric had gotten a call about five minutes ago from Drautos who’d asked him to return to the Glaive offices. He’d left Cor sitting there at Gerta’s with Prompto who was happily stuffing his face. Gerta was fussing over the boy, much to Cor’s own amusement, but they’d both fallen silent when the three had appeared.

“I feel like I’m about to get pounced on,” he murmured to the older woman who grinned and laughed at him. It was true, he wasn’t completely used to so much attention or being around so many people who liked to talk. Usually, if Nyx was there he’d keep the other Galahdians busy, but he wasn’t there and Cor wasn’t really all that sure what to do.

Prompto did, however, because he immediately demanded Crowe take him. She grinned, plucked the toddler from Cor’s lap and twirled him which resulted in a whirlwind of giggles. Watching the two play, Cor remembered the question Nyx had asked him in the park and glanced at the others as they settled into various positions around the table.

“Nyx wants to teach Prom Galahdian.” All eyes landed on him and Cor felt his back stiffen a bit in response. He watched the others there a bit warily. They didn’t seem upset, though he knew he had to be careful. He’d heard stories of Lucian’s remarking on something they didn’t understand and upsetting the normally easy going group. The last thing he needed was to be on their shit-list.

Gerta was the first to pipe up. “Good! It will help you learn too if you’re learning along with the little one. Make understanding him easier.” Though he’d mentioned it before, he hadn’t been all that sure if the group had been joking about teaching him. Hearing Gerta say that all but cemented it into place.

He relaxed a little more after that and heard Pelna start laughing. “Still getting used to asking, huh?” the younger man teased. When Cor gave a haphazard shrug, Pelna grinned a little more. “You should ask Nyx about some of our traditions,” he suggested like he wasn’t tossing Cor a lifeline to cling to.

Cor frowned a little. He knew the Galahdian’s had traditions they followed but wasn’t all that positive Nyx would be one to share. Then again, it had been his idea for Cor to learn their language, that was including him in a lot if he thought about it. Being able to understand what the Galahdian’s said and being able to talk to those who hadn’t learned Lucian would open a whole new world to him.

“Traditions?” He was being cautious. Pelna gave him an easy-going smile, but Cor wasn’t sure how much he trusted the other man. Monica trusted him and nodded her head in agreement at Pelna’s suggestion. 

“You should ask him more about Galahdian culture,” she offered. “They take a lot of pride in it.”

They did, Cor had noticed that the first time he’d stepped into the Galahdian Quarter. The market was always lively, even late at night. Shops were almost always open, they all greeted one another openly. When he’d seen these same people out in Insomnia, away from their little square of home, they’d been more subdued. Quiet. Even now he could see the difference. Crowe usually kept the plaits in her hair hidden in her ponytail out of sight, but Prompto was very cheerfully playing with the bead at the end of one of them as he was cradled in her arms. Same for the others. Most had them hidden in some fashion or just didn’t wear one while outside of the Quarter like Pelna did. Nyx was a bit of a rebel as far as he could tell, but the man still tucked the beads up under his collar when he was in the Citadel.

“And you should especially ask about our kinky sex dungeon,” Pelna piped in with such a straight face Cor actually wondered if it was real for a moment. “The password is ‘Pork Cutlet’.”

That got a hoot of laughter from Crowe and Monica was giving Pelna a look that probably should have lit his pants on fire as she jabbed her elbow into his ribs. Cor chuckled and carefully took Prompto back when Crowe offered the toddler to him. If nothing else, he supposed he’d have a topic of discussion for Nyx next time dinner was made. He just hopped the other man was as open on the topic as they seemed to think he would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than usual, but I want the whole 'traditions' discussion to be a chapter of its own. Originally I was gonna have Lib in with the group to heckle Cor, but decided he should be off heckling Nyx instead. So he'll be in the next chapter. xD


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wrote another dad!Cor story after that poll I posted a few weeks ago. I posted it the other morning, but it isn’t under the CorNyx tag. There’s only one chapter so far, but it’s based on a prompt I was given by a reader. If you’re interested, it’s called “[The Stages of Chaos](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19330153/chapters/45981463)”. 
> 
> Also, this series has no rhyme or reason to it. Some of it will follow little mini-plots but for the most part this is all just fluff and fun with the characters. There aren’t any real threats (yet?) and nothing but feel-good times for the most part. So you’ll notice these get broken a lot between a lot of different views. If you don’t like that, let me know and I’ll see about spacing them better. ❤

“Pelna,” Monica called out.

Khara turned towards the sound of her voice, giving her one of his prize winning smiles that quickly folded into a grimace when he saw what she had in her hand. She was looking at a notepad that had at one time been tucked away in his jacket. The same notepad he’d written in the other day while on their adventure stalking Nyx and the Marshal through the park.

“Yes, dearest?” He tried to sound innocent. He failed.

“Where are the notes you were writing the other day? The ones from the park?” She paused and flipped the page. “I wanted to check something.”

He fidgeted as she turned another page. “That’s them.”

The look she leveled at him sent a shiver down his spine. “There’s nothing but doodles in here, Khara.”

“Are they _good_ doodles?”

Pelna prided himself in being quick, so when the notepad sliced passed his face, brushing passed his hair, he did the smart thing and fled.

* * *

“Traditions?” Nyx asked, setting the spoon down beside the stove before he turned to look at Cor. “Like, our holidays?”

“I suppose? I’m not really sure what I’m asking for here,” Cor grumbled, his gaze following Prompto as he played with his two favorite stuffed things - despite Nyx’s attempts to get the toddler to abandoned the Tonberry - in Nyx’s living room. “Or what you can tell me.”

Nyx laughed and turned back to the stew he was making. “It’s not so much Galahdian Traditions being a big secret or anything, it’s just that most Insomnian’s think we’re all primitive and lived like urchins back home.” He snorted and glanced at Cor, sticking his tongue out playfully. “I’ll have you know we had electricity _and_ indoor plumbing.”

Cor’s eyebrows rose towards his hairline as he looked back at Nyx, the look of fake surprise so out of place on the man’s usually emotionless face, Nyx nearly lost it. “Fancy.”

“Dickhead. We have festivals and stuff we do that are old. Like, really _old_. Some of them haven’t been done in a few years since Galahd fell, but some people still do them. The biggest thing is food. You will notice, they are crazy about food around here.”

“I had noticed,” Cor admitted, watching Nyx as he dipped stew into bowls for them. “But Galahd was made up of islands, right? Each one of the villages specialized in something, I assume… So you would come together and share?”

The smile Nyx gave him was bordering on breathtaking, and Cor tucked that away to analyze later when he wasn’t learning new things that could be explained to him easily.

“Yup!” Nyx grinned as he placed the bowls on the table, which quickly caught Prompto’s attention who made his way over. “We’d gather at the main village each year for different events, one of our biggest festivals was welcoming in the new harvest for each year. Everyone would bring food, things to trade. Then we’d all get a strip of cloth and write a wish on it, dip it in the sea and take it to what we called the ‘wishing tree’. It was a big, old tree that had been standing for as long as Galahd had been around. The Elders said it was planted when our people first settled there. We’d take those strips of cloth and tie them to the branches and then we’d go feast and enjoy ourselves, dancing and singing for the rain to come and water the crops we’d just planted.”

“What were the wishes?”

Nyx chuckled and shrugged. “Who knows. The usual ones I suppose? Good health, good harvest, asking for your children to grow up strong.” He paused, catching Prompto as the boy lifted his arms and sat him up in his high chair, a gift one of Nyx’s neighbors had given him after he’d mentioned looking for one for Prompto. In fact, Cor had been surprised just how much of what Nyx had needed for Prom had been offered to him by the rest of the community.

Cor was silent for a moment, watching Prompto as he attempted to eat food with a spoon he was obviously pretending was a shovel. “What did you wish for?”

Nyx blinked, staring at the Marshal owlishly. It had been years since anyone had bothered with some of their traditions, though there was a small group that still wandered down to the rocky shores that surrounded Insomnia outside its wall and dipped strips of cloth into the sea. It all seemed so pointless now that there was no harvest. Just dreams and useless wishes.

“Haven’t made one in years,” he admitted as he carefully ruffled Prom’s blond hair before taking his seat across from the two of them. “The last time I did was before the fighting started back home.” He paused as he thought about it, then laughed because he’d been fifteen and full of stupid thoughts and even dumber wishes. “I wished for an adventure. Boy did I get one.” He glanced up from his bowl of stew just in time to see Cor frowning at him. “What?”

“Your wish didn’t start any of that. The fighting would have reached Galahd eventually after Mors was forced to pull back the Wall.”

Nyx flinched. He didn’t mean to, but Cor had a way of striking blind but true. “Try telling that to a fifteen-year-old with a whole lot of stupid ideas in his head,” he murmured, then clamped down on the rest. Cor was there for dinner, not his life story. “We had another,” he kept on, plowing passed his near admission. “Go out into a dark field and throw rotten apples at each other. Mostly kids did it, but the adults joined because started getting into more trouble.”

“ _More_ trouble?” 

Nyx gave Cor a grin that made the younger man’s eyes light up with such mischief Cor wondered if Nyx was anywhere near the age he claimed to be. “We started tipping the livestock over.”

Cor snorted and stared at him. “That’s _almost_ as believable as Pelna telling me you all have a sex dungeon.”

His brow furrowed, Nyx paused and stared at Cor. “He didn’t tell you the password, did he?” When all Cor did was stare, Nyx huffed. “Well, Marshal?”

“Pork cutlet?” He felt so stupid saying it, but Nyx was staring at the ceiling and sighing in such a way that Cor was actually starting to get concurned.

Was it fucking real after all?

* * *

“Pelna told him we have a sex dungeon?” Libertus murmured, horror written all over his face as he stared at Nyx.

Nyx - the absolute shithead - laughed. “Yes. It is by far the greatest thing I’ve ever seen. And I think he actually believes it now. You should have seen his face.”

“He’s going to think all of us are delinquents,” Lib complained. “And never let Prom here ever again.”

The grin that was slathered across Nyx’s face grew. “I think he was more curious than disgusted really.” When Lib arched an eyebrow at him, he frowned. “What? I can’t tease the guy?”

“The fact that you _want_ to tease him is rather telling.”

Nyx threw his hands in the air. “He’s a friend, dammit! Why are you and the others pushing this so hard? I mean hell, you of all people usually hate every Insomnian that comes within a foot of you.”

Libertus rolled his eyes. “For one, I don’t hate _every_ Insomnian. I happen to like the Marshal and Monica.”

“Monica is a cynical death machine dating Pelna’s dumb ass and will probably kill him before they actually end up getting married,” Nyx snarked, frowning.

“Which makes their love even more amazing to watch. Like a timebomb with a randomized detonator.” He laughed when Nyx gave him a disgusted look. “And Cor isn’t intrusive. He comes in, watches us, and asks questions when he thinks it is ok. Prompto is a bonus… Prompto may be the reason he’s almost universally accepted really…”

Which was true. Kids were treasured amongst the Galahdian community, and a lot of them saw Prompto as Nyx’s since he had been granted guardianship of the toddler along with Cor. Which bound them together in a way. Which made things even more complicated if he thought about it.

“Besides,” Lib went on when Nyx just stood there trying to rub away the headache gathering at his temples. “You and Cor are both idiots and I don’t see how you’ve survived this long. Well, _you_ survived because me and Crowe. I don’t know about Cor. The King maybe?”

“Cor has an ulcer named after him.”

“Clarus?”

Nyx paused because he hadn’t really ever heard Cor complain about the King’s Shield, more just kind of sidestepped the topic, like he’d be struck by lighting just saying the man’s name. Which was a curious thing. He’d make a point to ask him even if it didn’t get him anywhere. “Maybe? He doesn’t really talk about Amicitia,” he mumbled, then frowned at Lib’s wide grin. “I swear to every Astral I will punch you.”

“You guys talk about work stuff?”

“I will skip punching and go straight for strangling you.”

“Don’t use all of your best one-liners on me, save some for Cor-” Libertus yelped and ducked as a spoon came sailing at his head. “I only speak truths!”

“Lies and slander,” Nyx huffed, waving another spoon at him threateningly. “Get out of my apartment or I’ll tell Drautos it was you that spilled the Marrowshroom Chowder in his office chair.”

Libertus looked up, horrified. “But that was Crowe.”

“I know.”

“Traitor.”

* * *

Monica sat at her desk with the torn sheets of a notepad spread out before her, staring down at both the doodles and the actual notes Pelna had taken during their park adventure. The doodles, she admitted - to herself only - were cute. Pelna had an odd sense of humor and while the doodles were crude, it had a childish attribute that made it charming.

A stick figure with a tiny princess hat had been labeled “Nyx” with a small arrow pointing towards it, while the doodle of a tall dragon was labeled “Cor”. When she’d asked him why Cor was a dragon he’d just shrugged and said it made sense. In Pelna’s doodles it did as well after you got further down because Dragon Cor was hoarding away his treasure. Nyx and Prompto.

The doodles also made Pelna’s actual notes make sense because he’d coded the damn things. She’d struggled to understand who ‘Dragon’ was until she’d realized the doodles were with the notes and weren’t just doodles.

_2:00 PM: Dragon and Princess take Prince to park_  
_2:15 PM: Princess is laughing about something. Dragon smiled._  
_2:30 PM: Stopped for ice cream. Prince dropped his, Dragon offered his. Princess is smitten with the interaction._  
_2:50 PM: Chocobos have landed._  
_2:50 PM: Dragon on high alert._  
_3:00 PM: Dragon doesn’t seem to understand the concept of affection. Neither does Princess._  
_3:30 PM: Prince seems to spend time with the two equally throughout the trip._  
_3:45 PM: Dragon and Princess are fucking stupid._

It wasn’t the most detailed work, but she had notes of her own she was taking. More of which she’d get to take if the sound of her door opening was any indication. Sweeping the papers together and pushing them into a desk drawer, she looked up just in time to see Cor closing the door behind him. He paused, watching her curiously before he ventured closer and casually plopped himself on the couch in the corner of her room.

“I have a problem.”

With a smile, Monica leaned forward and placed her elbows on her desk, allowing herself to cradle her chin in her palms. “Oh? Is it of the Ulric and Prompto variety?”

Cor paused then frowned a little more. “It does seem like I only ever come here to complain about that now.”

“Marshal, I’d much rather hear about whatever silly things you’re worrying over with those two than the gut-wrenching anxiety I get when you speak _his_ name.”

Cor snorted because he already knew. His stomach reminded him several times that morning that he had at least two voicemails on his phone from Regis that he hadn’t answered yet. The third was from Clarus. He was going to have to step on that landmine sooner than he wanted. But first, he had something else to discuss.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“A dangerous pastime,” Monica murmured, giving Cor a look that begged him to argue.

He didn’t.

“Nyx and I took Prompto to the park,” he continued then rolled onto the couch so that he was sprawled across it. “It was uneventful but nice. Watching Nyx with Prom is… nice?” He frowned up at the ceiling then glanced at Monica who just smiled at him. “While we were there, I thought over what you told me.”

“About you two raising Prompto together?” she asked, leaning back in her chair this time. She was going to start requesting they paid her as Cor’s therapist. At least for his Ulric related issues. She wasn’t sure anyone could handle his Caelum related ones. When he nodded, she shrugged her shoulders. “What’s the problem?”

Cor frowned at her. “I can’t exactly walk up to him and tell him to move in and help me raise Prom,” he stated flatly. “Besides, I live closer to the Citadel. The Galahdians already get enough shit from the rest of the city. He’d be subjected to it more there, I doubt he’d even move.”

“Then move to the Galahdian Quarter.” Monica made it sound so simple, and Cor managed to look mildly offended that she would imply he hadn’t thought of that.

“I’m not Galahdian.”

Monica sighed and wondered how much trouble she’d get in for hitting him. “Please, Marshal. They’ve all but accepted you into the fold. There might be a few that would be against it, but the ones that count, the ones that see you as a friend will drown that out.”

It was strange, how quickly Cor had been accepted into the Quarter when everyone else was forced back out. When she’d mentioned it to Pelna he’d shrugged but agreed. It always seemed to come back to Prom though. They’d watched Cor with the boy, watched Nyx with the both of them. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure it out. 

“Check with Gerta?” she suggested finally. “Maybe she’ll have an idea. If you’re willing to move into the Galahdian Quarter or even closer than you are now so it’s not in an area where the two of you will be heavily judged, I think it would be fine.” Gerta was turning into the wise woman of the group it seemed. From what Pelna had told her about the old woman, she’d raised Nyx and Libertus on their island home, acting as a mother figure as they’d grown. Now she acted as more of a guide, pushing them in the direction she thought best, but only when asked. She also liked Cor, if only because she thought Nyx and Cor balanced each other out.

But at least now Cor was taking a step in the right direction.

She hoped.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -sneaks in, drops chapter-

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 9

When Cor arrived at Gerta’s later that evening, it was in the middle of a heated debate between Crowe and Libertus who seemed to be discussing some type of strategy that Libertus had seen used in a board game. He apparently wanted to use it on the field. Crowe was calling him a complete idiot and demanding he go on Leave from the Kingsglaive for mental health reasons.

Nyx was sitting across the table from them, staring at them blankly with his chin cupped in his palm. Cor took the seat beside him silently, earning a glance from the other man before he looked back at the two bickering Galahdians. They hadn’t even noticed Cor’s arrival.

“Crowe,” Nyx’s voice broke into the argument, bringing two sets of eyes to stare at the other man. “I have a request.”

“A request?” she mumbled, frowning at him. “What are you talking about.”

Nyx looked bored really, but his eyes sharpened and the grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth was somewhat alarming. Cor just watched in silent fascination, because that look meant a lot of things. Mainly that whatever Nyx was about to say was to be treasured.

“When you have kids one day, you should name all of them some variation of Crowe.” He completely ignored the disgusted look Libertus was giving him, staring at Crowe who had tilted her head curiously. “Crow, Cro, Corvus….” Nyx went on teasingly. “That way, when I see you coming down the street I can gasp dramatically and whisper to Cor "Look! A _murder_ "!”

Cor choked and had to cover his mouth quickly to keep the laugh that had nearly ripped from his throat caged behind his teeth. Across the table, Crowe let her’s out loud and free, leaning against Libertus who’d turned his gaze towards the ceiling and Cor was sure he could hear him asking Ramuh to strike him down where he sat.

“My own little murder. How magical!”

No one was saying anything about how casually Nyx had implied that Cor would still be around or even remotely close enough for him to repeat the horrible pun. Cor kept his mouth shut because it meant that at the very least they expected and accepted the fact that he was likely in their lives for the long haul.

It was unexpectedly comforting.

Some part of his brain thought about just blurting out the question that was on the tip of his tongue, to ask right there in front of two of Nyx's best friends. The other part, the logical half; told him no. That was enough to stop him. It was stupid, the thought. Because asking Nyx to help him raise a kid was a little too much like a commitment and Cor wasn't sure how to handle that.

Instead, he waited, the silent gargoyle of the group; watching and listening to the three friends as they badgered and ribbed one another. Crowe tried to include him at least twice, but part of him felt it was better if they forgot he was there.

"Who's got Prom?" It was an innocent question, with only a slight hint of worry that Cor barely noticed. It was well hidden, buried deep under a facade of curiosity. But that was Nyx. He was always careful about certain things, the way he worded questions when it came to Lucians. Apparently they got offended by every little thing.

"Regis," he grumbled, letting that name create a dark cloud in the air. "He wanted 'practice'."

Nyx made a sound that was close to disparaging. "I'm gonna start asking for child support from that man," he groused. "He's cutting in on my child-rearing time." He paused, blue eyes darting towards Cor for a half second before he looked at Crowe. "I should teach him bad words." The look went unnoticed by the others, but Cor had seen it and it made him wonder if there was something else going on in the Galahdian's head.

"Prom's got three dads. The silent bad-ass, the whiny-shit and what I'm pretty sure is a cloud of evil…" Crowe frowned a little as she thought over what she'd just said. "Maybe I should adopt him. I'm worried."

Nyx huffed. "Hey, Cor isn't evil."

"That wasn't who I was referring to."

Nyx stared at her and frowned. "Then who's the whiny-shit?"

"You."

Crowe squealed in delight when Nyx lunged for her, a pair of chopsticks poised for the attack. It was all good-natured, the two would have ruined the building in seconds if they were really fighting, not to mention Libertus was hooting with laughter and Gerta came to the doorway long enough to roll her eyes.

Cor managed to catch the old woman's eye long enough to try and convey the message he wanted to talk to her. It seemed to work because she motioned for him to come to the kitchen. Leaving the table and Nyx trying to keep Crowe in a headlock while she tried to elbow him in the ribs, Cor made his way to the door that was only guarded by a curtain if beads and wondered if the noise from the three others was enough to keep them distracted. 

Gerta went back to her stove, stirring something in a pot before she glanced at Cor questioningly. When he hesitated, she took the lead. "You've been doing some thinking."

His brow furrowed. "A bit."

"Done you any good?"

If he was honest? "No."

She cracked a grin and cackled. "Out with it boy, what's on your mind?" She went back to stirring whatever was cooking on the stove, her eyes on the pot but Cor could tell she was listening, waiting.

"I was thinking of moving." Spoken out loud, the sentence seemed to carry a different tone. Gerta noticed it as well because she paused in her stirring and glanced at him.

"Oh?" Another circle of the pot with her spoon. "Where would you be moving to? Closer to the King?" Another stir.

For a moment, just a split second, Cor felt like Shiva herself was in the room, then the icy fingers that had trailed down his back were gone.

"Actually," Cor watched as she paused again. "I was thinking of moving closer to here."

Cor would swear to anyone that Gerta's eyes glowed when he said that. He wondered for a moment if she possessed magic. Not magic like the King's, something far older. Older than him, older than Regis, older than Mors. Older than the stories of witches he'd heard as a child.

"That so?" she questioned, a wicked look spreading like fire across her face. "And why might that be?"

He made a face that had the old woman cackling. She knew why, he could read it on her face but she was determined to make him say it out loud. The problem was, Cor wasn't so sure anymore. Nyx had his own place. It wasn't amazing, it wouldn't win any home of the year awards, but it was his place. His notch in the belt of Insomnia that he could call his own. Cor could offer him a nicer place, but it wouldn't be quiet, not with a toddler running around and Nyx would be far from being alone anymore.

But maybe he liked being alone? 

Gerta hummed, catching Cor's attention and watched him expectantly. Biting the bullet, Cor opened his mouth.

"Less distance to travel when Nyx and I trade Prom."

It was the truth but also a lie. He could tell it by the way it settled in his stomach but that's where he left it.

"That so? No other reasons?" She was digging, searching for an answer he wasn't sure he could give. He saw the ghost of a frown at the corners of her mouth when he shook his head. "Closer is good," she continued after a moment. "Means you can drop by more often."

It was Cor's turn to frown. "I come by almost every day."

"Almost."

He frowned more. "Just about."

"Closer means at least twice a day," Gerta informed him, that wicked grin back. "Lunch and dinner."

Cor snorted softly but gave in. "Alright. Maybe twice _now and then._ "

* * *

Cor had never been called a coward to his face, but sitting there in Monica's office, sulking on her couch, it happened for the first time. She stood before him, hands on her hips with a small Prompto trying his best to imitate her by her feet, babbling at him scoldingly while Monica tanned his hide by just glaring at him. It was an entirely new sensation, being scolded by her.

He wasn't very fond of it.

"And this happened when?" she asked after the silence had gone on for a good fifteen minutes.

Cor cringed because it was about to get so much worse. "A week ago."

"A week?" Monica had that unique ability he thought only he had developed. The ability to seem completely and utterly calm to the point of being unnerving. "A week, Marshal. Are you serious? And you haven't been back?"

"I've been busy here."

Monica scoffed at him. "You'd better be glad that lot has been on a mission for the past week or you'd be in far deeper shit."

Cor tried to look unfazed, failed and tried for somewhere in the area of only slightly disgruntled. "If it makes up for it, I've been apartment hunting too. I found a place that has more than enough room for me and maybe someone else. If not, well… I'll have an extra room." Which, if he was honest with himself, would likely be needed to house the mountain of toys Prompto was slowly collecting. Most of them were now sitting on one end of the couch. He’d already talked to the landlord and was supposed to be moving in within the next week. The place was about two blocks from the Galahdian Quarter, and Cor admitted he’d gotten the place for way less than he’d thought he would. Mainly because the old man renting the apartment had been shocked a Lucian had wanted it.

“You’re still an idiot,” Monica stated as she crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at him. “But it is a step in a direction at least.” Which if she thought about it, might be for the best. Anyone with eyes and ears could tell the two men got along, except for the two of them. In their tiny universe, they both orbited Prom, and that seemed to be enough for now. Giving a soft sigh, she glanced at the clock hanging on her wall. The ‘Disaster Squad’ as Titus had taken to calling four of his Kingsglaive, were due back from their week-long mission into the wilds of Cleigne. “Let’s go get lunch,” she murmured. “Our group of heathens should be back sometime today and I can’t deal with Pelna on an empty stomach.”

The doorknob turned then just as Cor leaned down to pick up Prompto, and as if her voice had summoned him, Pelna stepped through. He was disheveled, dirty from the road and his uniform had seen better days. Black hair covered in dust and beard a bit thicker than it had been when they’d left, the poor man looked like he hadn’t slept the entire week he’d been gone. The sight of Monica brought some life back into him, and Cor was fairly sure the younger man _squealed_ at the sight of her before draping himself against her like a limp noodle.

Monica took it all in stride, going from a stern coworker to doting girlfriend in a matter of seconds, which was probably the strangest thing Cor had ever seen in his life. And he’d spent the greater part of twenty years with Regis and company.

Vacating the couch so Monica could sit Pelna on it, Cor glanced towards her doorway expecting the rest of the group to fall in behind him. When they didn’t, he raised an eyebrow at Monica who just shrugged her shoulders in response. Then, upon consideration, Cor figured they might all be piled in his office. That tended to be the second place they liked to crash. His couch was apparently very comfy.

“Oh good, the Marshal’s here,” Pelna murmured after Monica had him situated on the couch. His voice was slightly slurred, which had Cor eyeing him warily for a moment.

Monica frowned at him, noticing his odd speech pattern as well. “He is. What’s going on Pelna?”

With an awkward flourish, Pelna raised his hand so his uniform sleeve slid back just enough to display the green bracelet that had been wrapped around it. Small, typed writing filled out the white face of it and Cor’s frown mirrored Monica’s own. “Don’t tell Titus,” Pelna whispered, seemingly more like a kid who’d slipped out of his bedroom in the middle of the night instead of a grown man who’d obviously run away from the hospital despite some odd assortment of drugs running through his veins.

“Where are the others? What happened?” Monica asked, though Cor didn’t miss the subtle movement of her fingers carefully tunneling through Pelna’s hair to scratch at his scalp lightly. The man seemed to relax into the touch, closing his eyes.

“Hospital still,” he mumbled, a small happy smile curving his lips. “We were at Ravatogh. Some Imperials were there,” he paused long enough to snort softly and look at Cor, the most serious look he’d ever seen on the normally relaxed, happy-go-lucky man’s face. “They were setting up base, looked like they were pretty serious about it. Had a bunch of mechs stationed there, but Lib went in and set up some charges and detonated them.”

Cor shook his head quickly, holding up his hand. “We’re taking you back to the hospital where you should be,” he announced, ignoring the pitiful whine the younger man released. “We’ll get a full report from you after you’re not drugged up and when the rest are feeling better.” He stood quickly and nodded towards Monica. “I’ll go call the hospital so they’ll stop the manhunt I’m sure they’ve started.” When she nodded, he walked out of the door, Prompto carefully bundled up in his arms.

* * *

The call was a brief one. They’d start mounting a full search for the missing Glaive and had in fact informed Drautos of the incident. The nurse he’d spoken to had been relieved at the news Pelna was fine, though Cor was pretty sure she was planning some type of revenge. He could hear it in her voice. He’d also managed to glean a bit more information from her. It seemed the group of them had a range of injuries, though none were life-threatening. Libertus was the worse off, having busted his leg. Crowe was suffering from stasis, which alone would have been nasty but she’d used potions to try and boost her magic and had all but drained herself to the point of blacking out repeatedly on the way back home. Pelna was bruised up, a cracked rib and more than enough cuts that needed stitches. Nyx was in a similar boat as Pelna, bruised with a nasty burn that covered most of his left arm courtesy of a shock trooper with a grudge while he and Pelna had tried to protect the stasis afflicted Crowe.

They hadn’t been the only group it seemed. The secondary squad that had also been out looking into the base had been roughed up as well. Luche Lazarus had emerged mostly unscathed, but only because he’d had the common sense to pull back. Tredd Furia had fought a mech, which hadn’t gone well for the other man. Axis Arra had retreated with Luche, and Sontius Bellum was missing. Luche and Axis had already left the hospital by the time Cor and Monica arrived with Pelna, venturing back off to look for their lost squadmate.

His four idiots had been placed in the same room, which Cor was silently thankful for because it meant no one would call him out for spending too much time in a room alone with Nyx. It meant he had to listen to Libertus bitch at Pelna for wandering off though, and about how they’d gotten a tongue lashing from Titus for not stopping him.

“I wanted to see Monica,” Khara stated as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world. “Besides, Drautos wasn’t going to tell them where we were. They are family now, no matter how bad they don’t want to claim us.”

Cor, the masterful tactician that he was, had taken up a spot on the wall beside the door. He was out of the way, but near the closest exit. It also helped a little bit that it also placed him fairly close to the bed Nyx occupied. He leaned against the whitewashed wall, arms crossed over his chest while the group bickered. On the same wall as Nyx was Pelna. Monica had pulled up a chair to sit beside the man’s bed, her back to the corner of the wall so she had a good view of the door but also so she was out of the way. Crowe was across from Pelna, sleeping soundly, and Libertus was across from Nyx, glaring towards the group escapee.

Prompto had immediately demanded to be set on Nyx’s bed upon entering the room and had given his other caretaker such a look, Nyx had visibly recoiled and apologized profusely to the toddler. It had all been rather endearing and Prom seemed to have forgiven him the slight of getting hurt, if the way he was cuddled into Ulric’s side now was any indication.

“We’d keep Monica and just toss you out,” Libertus shot back. Nyx laughed while Pelna flinched and pouted.

“What about Cor? Would you throw him out too?” Pelna pouted, shooting Cor a sideways look that made the Marshal roll his eyes.

Libertus snorted and displayed his middle finger. In his bed, Nyx was laughing so hard his oxygen levels were dropping slightly. “We already adopted Cor, he doesn’t get a choice.”

It was strange, Cor decided. He was used to the group claiming he belonged with them, but at the same time it felt odd. Maybe it was because Prompto was the driving factor behind it. Without the small, blond-haired terror this group he now considered friends would have never looked his way. He would have just been another Lucian that didn’t understand their ways. Another face in a sea of people that looked at them differently.

“He has a choice,” Nyx spoke up, the laughter had died away shortly after Lib stopped speaking. When Cor glanced his way, he caught the shy glance in his direction that quickly switched back to Libertus who was staring at Nyx as if he was an idiot. “We can’t just put a claim on him, Lib. He’s not a pet. If he wants to stick around he can, but if he doesn’t he has the right to leave. We can’t expect him to be there all the time. He has other stuff to deal with than a bunch of rowdy Galahdian’s terrorizing his city.”

An out, Cor realized silently. Ulric was giving him an out from what had become the Galahdian’s clinging to his coat tails. Or that’s how Nyx saw it, he guessed. Cor saw it more along the lines of him riding theirs. The small group was the closest thing to social interaction he got outside of Regis’ council meetings, and those usually ended with him hating people he already disliked just a bit more. Monica seemed to think the group was good for him, no matter how disastrous they could be elsewhere. He could only imagine what they’d be like inside of one of Regis’ meetings. On the street and within the Citadel, they were respectful. They tried to conform while staying true to who they were, but the snide comments Cor often heard while subject to these daunting meetings… He could just imagine Crowe lighting into the Council with glee, Libertus telling them all where they could shove their heads, and Nyx… Nyx would just stand there with that placid smile on his face that meant someone, somewhere had fucked up, and watch the whole room burn.

“I don’t know,” he murmured once he realized the room had fallen very silent after Nyx had spoken. He’d drifted off into his own thoughts, leaving a tension in the room. It grew when he spoke, while they waited for him to continue. “Prompto would probably miss all of you.” The tension eased slightly and Libertus let out a little laugh. “And I might have gotten a little fond of all of you.”

“Careful, Marshal,” a sleepy voice called from the corner, and several eyes turned to watch as Crowe lifted her head. Brown hair spilled around her like a mop, but she gave Cor a sheepish grin. “You might have to adopt the lot of us and let us sleep on your couch.”

Cor cleared his throat slightly and let his face fold back into his usual look of indifference.

“I suppose,” Monica piped up from her corner seat next to Pelna’s bed, a dangerous glint in her eyes as she glanced towards Cor. “It’s a good thing he moved closer then.”

“What?” It was a collective of four voices, all in different tones of curiosity. Brown and blue eyes all turned on him, staring in genuine wonder.

Cor coughed into his hand, then turned towards the door. “I’ll let Drautos know Altius woke up,” he murmured quickly and ducked out into the hallway before anyone noticed the heat that was quickly rising to touch his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not dead! I’m sorry guys! I’ve been going through this weird bought of wanting to write, but not wanting to write? Which is turned into me writing whatever comes to mind, which isn’t good because it leads to me writing other stuff. Which leads to _more_ things.
> 
> I think I found a way to deal with it though, so we’ll see.
> 
> Other than that… -slaps an OOC tag on this monster- There we go!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO UH  
> -slides chapter into y'all's notification boxes-

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 10

Nyx stared at the void Cor had left in his wake after leaving the room. Something like hope rattled around in his chest as he stared at the spot because Cor hadn’t taken the out he’d handed him. He’d given him the means to an end, a way to wiggle out of the ridiculous predicament they’d found themselves in. He’d taken that handout, considered it, then chucked it on the floor. Nyx had been turned down before, but he’d never found himself to be _happy_ about it.

“If you start drooling,” Lib called across the room, “I’m going to get up and punch you.” His smile bordered on a smirk and Nyx pondered the merits of wiping it off his face. “So,” his best friend continued, “the Marshal is moving closer, eh?” Then he did that thing he did that Nyx hated, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. To which Nyx responded by quickly chucking a box of tissues at his head. It was blocked with ease and Libertus went right back to his torturous smirking and intolerable eyebrow wiggling. “So when I come over and you’re not home, or the Marshal has fallen ‘asleep on the couch’ again-”

It was the bedside clock this time that went sailing through the air and earned Nyx a yelp after a rather satisfying ‘thunk’.

“Keep being a smartass, Ostium,” he warned with a rather vicious smile. “I’m not the one in a cast for the next six weeks.

Six weeks, Nyx discovered the next morning when they’d all been released, of punishment. Titus’ little way of saying ‘You dickheads scared me. Don’t do it again.’ It hadn’t come as any real surprise. The group had discovered early on that Drautos was actually a huge softie and would never actually ‘punish’ them. It was why he’d send them to Cor or make them do grunt work for Regis.

The King and his ever silent sword were known for their sly grins and cold stares respectively. That was usually enough to keep them in line.

No, Drautos being a huge child about the whole thing wasn’t surprising. The fact that Cor hadn’t returned had been. He’d texted Monica about thirty minutes after leaving the room, claiming he’d been summoned back to the Citadel by the King. Nyx and the others had no reason to doubt Cor’s word, but it had set wrong in the pit of Nyx’s stomach; like he’d eaten a sour fruit.

It had given him some time with Prompto, however; and Nyx took advantage, playing with the toddler until his laughter had turned to sleepy yawns. Monica had left shortly after with him only to return the next morning to see the Galahdians home. There had been no sign of Cor, and for the following week, Nyx hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the older man. The others chalked it up to Cor being out on a mission, but when Nyx had asked Monica about it, she’d just stared at him for a moment then mumbled something about ‘idiots’ under her breath before carrying on with her work.

Since he and the others were essentially off duty until Titus decided on their punishments, Nyx had been left to spend his days with Prompto. He would never complain about it, but the boy was obviously worried about the other man he spent most of his time with. It went from him holding Nyx’s cell phone expectantly, to babbling at the door then finally to nightmares that woke them both up in the middle of the night. After another week of silence from Cor which included missed calls and ignored texts, Nyx had enough. He wasn’t even upset at the cold shoulder treatment he was being given, it was Prompto who was starting to suffer the most, though the child was good at hiding it with smiles and giggles when others were around.

At the end of the second week, Nyx made a decision and picked up his phone.

Monica’s reaction to his request was to give him what he asked for immediately and wish him good luck. He wasn’t sure how much he’d need, but he’d take what he could get.

* * *

The buildings closest to the Galahdian Quarter were mostly used for storage. A few were shops or restaurants, fewer still were apartments. The Insomnian’s treated the Galahdian Quarter like a ghetto. No children ventured close and few of the city’s people wanted to open businesses close to such a derelict area of town. Not that it was the Galahdian’s fault. The Insomnian’s refused to give them what they needed to repair the buildings there.

Which meant it took little time for Nyx to find the complex that Monica described over the phone since it was one of the nicer buildings in the area. It took even less for him to charm the landlord into showing him to Cor’s apartment with some help from Prompto. He’d smiled as the older man had wandered off back towards the stairs, waiting until he heard the door close before turning his attention back towards the door, the numbers ‘B37’ painted in bold black across the old wood.

For some reason, he was nervous, which made little sense to him. Biting the bullet, Nyx took a deep breath and rapped his knuckles against the door. In his arms, Prom watched on in curious wonder while Nyx leaned his shoulder casually against the wooden frame of the doorway.

He never heard any movement, not until he heard the clack of the lock as it tumbled open. The doorknob turned and then Nyx was looking slightly up into pale blue eyes. All that nervousness drained right out of him then, replaced by the contempt he’d felt when he’d realized the Marshal had been holed up in his apartment for two whole weeks.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. One that had Cor opening the door a little wider so he could frown down at the younger man broodingly. He opened his mouth to argue but then looked away, letting his gaze trail to the toddler Nyx was holding.

“I wasn’t.”

It was a lie.

Cor wasn’t even trying to hide it, actively avoiding his gaze in favor of watching Prompto. Which was astonishing to Nyx. He’d seen Cor lie. He’d stood there close-mouthed in wide-eyed terror while Cor blatantly lied to the King. The man hadn’t even blinked and stared directly into Regis’ eyes.

Cor was good at lying.

He’d seen him do it time and time again, yet here he was now, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

“Liar.”

Blue eyes pierced him as they landed back on his face, burning a hole through his skull. Some instinct told him to stop, but he couldn’t. He’d gone from worried to pissed as soon as Cor had opened his door.

“You weren’t on a mission,” he continued, glaring right back at the Marshal. “Monica would have told me, so don’t feed me that line of shit. You wouldn’t answer your phone, and you ignored my texts. I would have checked on you sooner but I had to wait until I could ask Monica where you'd even moved to!” He narrowed his eyes, silently daring Cor to argue with him. “Move closer then avoid us like we have the damn Starscourge. Geeze. And poor Prom! He’s been worried sick the last two weeks!”

When Cor’s gaze slid back to the toddler, Nyx realized something very important. The boy hadn’t immediately thrown himself at the Marshal like he normally did when Cor came home from a mission. Instead, he was eyeing Cor warily and clinging to Nyx’s shirt like it was a lifeline.

Cor at least had the sense to look ashamed as his eyes moved from the child back to the angry Galahdian in his doorway. “I’m sorry.”

Nyx admittedly had been ready for a good argument with the Marshal over his behavior. Cor did what he wanted when he wanted, so Nyx hadn’t expected him to apologize so quickly, or at all if he was being honest. So when the apology left Cor’s mouth, Nyx found himself choking on all his angry words. He’d heard Cor's sarcastic apologies before, which was why he knew he was hearing the genuine thing now.

“Six above,” he breathed before carefully detaching Prompto from his person. “Prom, it's okay, see? Cor’s fine. Why don’t you go to him?”

Prompto was a smart child. Probably too smart for his own good. Nyx had learned quickly over the two weeks the child had been left in his care that he had to be very careful. Prompto wasn’t speaking a whole lot just yet, but he was speaking enough. And listening to every word said in his vicinity if the mimicked curses were any indication.

So it honestly should not have surprised Nyx when the boy stared up at Cor and in the all-knowing tones of a toddler scored by a parent, called the Marshal “asshole” clear as day before turning and nuzzling his face back into Nyx’s shirt.

Cor had stared at the toddler while Nyx tried to come up with an excuse and found none. Then he chuckled under his breath and held his hands out to Prompto again.

“I deserved that. Come here, Prom.” Cor’s voice was gentle when he spoke, coaxing and Nyx watched on in silence as the toddler glanced up at Cor warily before finally relenting and going into the Marshal’s open arms.

It started somewhere in the base of his skull. A gentle, warm buzz that slowly spread out into his bloodstream. It seeped into his muscles, easing the tension from his shoulders that had settled there after two full weeks of worry. No sooner had it happened than Nyx realized what it meant and covered his face with his hands.

“ _Fuck_.” When he looked back up, blue eyes were staring back and while Cor didn’t usually wear his emotions openly, he had a bit of a tilt to his head that showed he was at least a little curious as to why Nyx was now throwing around obscenities. “I’m pissed off,” Nyx growled, ignoring the downward tug at the corners of Cor’s mouth. “Not at you. I mean I _was_ pissed at you, but now I’m not.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“That _is_ the problem,” he whined. “I’m pissed off at myself because I’m _not_ pissed off at you!” He slouched a little and wanted to pout but there was an odd crookedness to the smirk Cor was giving him now that made his palm itch. “I take it back,” he announced as Cor took a step back into his apartment. “I’m going to hit you.”

“Or,” Cor stated as he edged backward into his new home, “you could come inside and tell me what you think of the place. Maybe even stick around for dinner?” The last bit sounded hopeful, or at least Nyx thought it did. Maybe he was just thinking that because he wanted Cor to be.

“Two weeks without my cooking and already pining?” He grinned at Corn and sucked on his teeth. “I expected more from you, Leonis.”

Cor, the insufferable twat, had the audacity to snort. “I suppose you could say that,” he mumbled as he turned and walked into the apartment.

Nyx followed, leering at Cor’s back playfully but while outwards he was calm and collected, inside his mind was in overdrive. He was supposed to be angry with Cor, not following him into what he had to admit was quite a nice apartment. He should be cursing the man for the fool he was, not trying to decide if he should volunteer to cook or see if Cor had planned on making dinner. He should be glaring at the older man, instead, he was falling back into their old routine without any of his questions answered.

And he was perfectly okay with it.

That troubled him the most.

In a world where their jobs meant being gone weeks at a time and certain death if they didn’t handle the situation properly, Nyx was fully willing to instantly forgive Cor the sin of ignoring him for two weeks simply because he’d developed a soft spot for the wayward Marshal and the toddler the man had basically kidnapped.

“ _Fuck._ ”

“What was that?” Cor turned slightly and looked back at him, bouncing a sleepy-eyed Prompto gently.

“Luck,” Nyx lied. “You lucked out,” he continued, looking around the apartment to keep Cor’s attention away from the fact that he was a terrible liar. “Most of the buildings in this area are run down. This is one of the nicer ones.” A lie mixed with the truth was easier to tell in Nyx’s experience. Not that he made a habit of lying to anyone except maybe Drautos.

It was enough for Cor it seemed because the other man turned his attention to the living room where they now stood. Nothing had changed, the same furniture from Cor’s old place was scattered around the new apartment which didn’t surprise Nyx at all. Cor wasn’t the kind of person to go out and buy all new furniture just because he’d gotten a new place. So it was the same old worn leather couch, the same dark curtains and the same small tv that had been crammed into his old apartment, which oddly enough had been smaller than this one.

The kitchen was the most impressive by far. It was a good size, big enough for both of them to be in it at the same time and not want for more space. The island in the center had a breakfast bar, complete with stools. It put his own apartment to shame really, though Cor’s old apartment had been nice. It had just been smaller, likely due to so many Insomnian’s trying to live as close to the Citadel as possible.

“Man,” Nyx murmured with a low whistle as he walked into the kitchen, turning in a loose circle to take in the room in all its glory. “For someone who couldn’t boil water a few months ago you, you sure did get a nice kitchen.

There was a choking sound behind him and Nyx turned just in time to spy Prompto giggling sleepily at the expression on Cor’s face that he couldn’t see. Perhaps he’d just been teasing the toddler? Whatever it was, Cor seemed to get over it quickly enough, clearing his throat as he turned to face Nyx.

“I uh… Figured a nice kitchen would be nice for our cooking lessons.”

Cooking lessons.

The excuse Nyx had been using for months now to either have Cor over at his place or for him to drop by Cor’s. The fact that Cor had thought of that while searching for a new apartment sent that same warm buzz through his skull again. Nyx wasn’t really all that sure what to make of it this time.

“Oh yeah,” he laughed, trying not to miss a beat. “This puts my kitchen to shame. Guess we’ll be doing most of the cooking here then. Until you get sick of me that is,” he joked, grinning. “Then I’ll go back to my hole-in-the-wall.”

Cor for a moment seemed like he was going to say something but then closed his mouth. In his arms, Prom had finally passed out. Sighing and giving the toddler a fond smile, Cor excused himself from the room, disappearing down the hall and leaving Nyx to wonder what he’d been about to say.

* * *

“Is there magic in Galahd?”

Nyx paused, fork still in his mouth as he turned his gaze on Cor from where he stood in the kitchen by the stove. The question was simple enough, with a simple enough answer. It was the way the Marshal had phrased it, however, that gave Nyx pause. Some part of him, a part he was too proud to let show, melted just a bit. Because Cor understood. Maybe it wasn’t a true understanding but he still understood enough to know Galahd wasn’t just a place, it was a people. Wherever her people were, Galahd would follow.

It took him a moment to realize he was still staring at Cor, who seemed content to stare right back until he got an answer of some type. He was getting better at asking things and not backing down if he thought it crossed some imaginary boundary. Most would simply tell him it wasn’t for him to know and he would accept it. Not some scathing remark or sudden angry outlash like Cor had thought would happen when they’d first met.

It had been almost adorable, Nyx decided; the way he approached unknown topics around him.

“If you mean magic like the King’s magic, no. We didn’t have fire at our fingertips or the ability to conjure up ice with a thought. We couldn’t warp across spaces and all of that.”

“But there was magic.”

Nyx gave Cor a crooked grin. It was cute really, how Cor didn’t seem to notice he had a stubborn streak a mile wide. There was an urge there as well, to do something spontaneous and very stupid. Nyx wondered how Cor would react to that impulse, chickened out and back down at the thought of the recoil.

“Yes, there was magic.”

Simple, vague answers. Because goading Cor into a game of twenty frustrated questions was fun and honestly the highlight of his evenings sometimes.

Cor gave him an annoyed look that just made Nyx’s crooked smile a little more crooked as he continued to cook. The Marshal was always careful when Galahd was the topic. They had an unspoken rule between two soldiers. Nyx didn’t ask about battles fought alongside the King, and Cor didn’t ask about Galahd’s destruction. He’d seen enough sullen and distraught faces in the months that followed the tragedy to know the people of the island were likely still haunted by its demise. If Ulric still had nightmares, he didn’t share them with anyone except the ghosts of his past.

“If not magic like that from the Crystal, then what?” Cor questioned. “I’ve heard Drautos say Galahdians have a thing for magic. They take to it like-”

“Fish to water, yeah I’ve heard him say that too.” Nyx interrupted and smiled. “You ever hear of Kimya?”

Cor’s brow furrowed. “The Witch of the Woods? She’s just some old woman that uses the title to keep people away.”

Again, Nyx grinned. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Are you trying to get me to believe she’s a witch?” Cor frowned when Nyx just hummed and stirred the food he was cooking. “Nyx, really?”

He knew Cor wasn’t gullible enough to fall for some old Hunter’s tale about the Witch in the Woods, but Nyx wasn’t quoting a ghost story to him. Not today anyway. “Back home,” he started as he stirred. “We were isolated. We provided everything for ourselves. There were a few brave souls that ventured out to the port towns, but for the most part, Galahd stayed away. Maybe that was part of our downfall in the end.” He paused, staring at the pot on the stove intently. Cor was silent where he sat at the breakfast bar, letting Nyx gather his thoughts.

“Few, if any, spoke Lucian fluently enough to understand what mainlanders were saying. And let’s be honest, we never traded outside our own borders so it wasn’t like we contributed a whole lot to the community outside our own.” He paused again then gave a half-hearted shrug. “When King Mors pulled The Wall back, no one on the island was all that surprised. Angry, sure, but we’d always gone it alone. We didn’t need it. Point is, we’ve always taken care of ourselves, no fancy fireballs and all that. The magic I’m talking about is more concoctions and herbs.”

Cor made a face at Nyx, frowning. “I wouldn’t call herbs ‘magic’.”

Nyx laughed and waved his spoon in Cor’s direction. “Maybe not, but no Galahdian ever died of sickness on the island. Gerta says its old magic, leftovers from before the Draconian gifted his heart to the first Lucian King.” He paused, checking his food before turning off the stove. “Potions and cures for anything. I remember my mom joking once when I was little that Galahd could stave off any death except old age.” The smile he turned on Cor withered into a sad, bitter thing. “Old age, knives and bullets I suppose.”

Too close.

He was too close to an old wound that was still shockingly raw.

Grabbing plates, Nyx fixed the food he’d finished preparing and slid a plate over to Cor. “I’ll get Prom,” he murmured, using the toddler as an excuse to get out of the kitchen and away from the memories he’d dredged up. He didn’t ask Cor where the child’s room was. There were only so many doors in the apartment and searching for it would give him time to run away from old ghosts.

His first guess was the guest bathroom. A small thing with a shower, sink, and toilet. The door directly across the hall was his second guess, which left two more doors unopened. One would be the room Cor was using, the other was likely a closet of some sort. Turning the knob on the door across from the bathroom, Nyx entered with the intentions of announcing dinner was ready and that Prom needed to wake up.

The words died in the back of his throat as he glanced around. As far as rooms went, this one was pretty standard. The only thing that made it stand out was the fact that it was only furnished with the bare necessities, and that those furnishings seemed to be brand new. The plastic hadn’t even been pulled off the mattresses yet. Not Prompto’s room, so obviously a guest room. But it was so sparsely furnished it almost seemed to be begging for a personal touch.

Shaking his head, Nyx left the near-empty guest room and tried the next. It was somewhat similar to the last if only because it was furnished with the basics of a bedroom. The wear on the items in it announced it as Cor’s. It even smelled like sword oil, which Nyx found oddly comforting. Closing the door, Nyx glanced at the final one. It had to be Prompto’s room unless he’d missed a door somewhere.

When he opened it he found himself greeted by a large, yellow Chocobo plush that nearly came up to his waist. Definitely Prom's room then. Beyond that was a crib that would one day be converted into a youth bed, painted yellow to match what had quickly become Prompto’s favorite bird. The mobile overhead had tiny creatures known as Moogles dangling from it at different lengths, each holding a different musical instrument.

Prom was curled up in the center of the mattress, breathing gently to the rhythm of one in deep sleep. Nyx hated to wake the toddler, especially after a week's worth of nightmares but knew the boy needed to eat. Sleeping with a full belly was better than sleeping with an empty one.

Pausing at the side of the crib, Nyx smiled as he watched the boy sleep, his wild blond hair looking a little wilder after rolling around. A memory of standing by a crib, his hands grasping the bars flashed before him. In the bed, the small form of his baby sister. Their mother had just laid her down for a nap and he, the determined older brother, had volunteered to stand guard.

He reached out and gently brushed his hand over Prom’s hair. When the boy stirred and then opened his eyes, Nyx found himself gifted with a bright, cheerful smile. It was infectious and Nyx found himself returning the toddler’s grin.

“Ready to eat, bud?”

At the mention of food, Prompto was more than willing to exit his crib. In fact he was adamantly demanding he be released from his tiny prison and led the way down the hall like he already owned the place.

Maybe he did.

Cor had already set a place for the toddler by the time the two of them arrived. He obediently placed the babbling Prompto into his highchair where he quickly started shoveling food into his mouth like the tiny human vacuum he was.

“Get lost?” It was a joke, of course, but Nyx rolled his eyes at Cor anyway for asking.

“You’ve got extra rooms now,” he pointed out. “And an extra toilet.”

“I’m moving up in the world.”

Nyx snorted and shoved food into his mouth to keep from laughing or smiling at Cor’s dumb remarks. He doubted any other Insomnian with the exception of Monica would consider moving just outside the refugee quarter as ‘moving up’ in the world.

“What’s with the spare room?” he asked after a few minutes of silence had hovered over the table. “I figured you woulda made it into a playroom of some sort. Store Prom’s toy collection or something.” Because Cor didn’t do guests. As far as he knew, he was the only other person to step foot into Cor’s old apartment. Even Monica had told him the closest she had been to entering was standing in the doorway. So why the spare bed? It would be years before Prom could use a bed that size, and he doubted seriously if the Marshal had thought that far ahead.

Across the table, Cor had paused in eating and was staring at the food on his fork. For a moment, Nyx wondered if he was going to answer and if he did, would it be the truth? He watched silently as Cor seemed to mull over his options before he finally lifted his gaze and locked eyes with him.

“It’s yours,” Cor stated simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and he hadn’t just thrown Nyx’s mind into pure chaos. “If you want it, that is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologize to you guys, for kinda just disappearing off the planet for a bit there. I'd like to say I used the time to write a whole bunch of chapters so I'd have backstock so I could post once a week as I'd originally planned. HOWEVER, this is not so.
> 
> My past month has been full of stress-induced coma sleeping because of work. What I haven't spent stress-sleeping I've spent being plagued with family drama. (This is why I moved out on my own, kids.) A score of medical issues later and here I am, a full (to the day) month after I posted the last chapter on this thing, posting once more.
> 
> I'm not going to call this writer's block, more like I just needed to find time to sit down and write, because now that I have this chapter out, I'm ready to get the next one written. Which I'll try to do in a timely manner. Several parts of this chapter were written write after I finish the 9th chapter, and then only recently finished, so some of it seems a bit off? Maybe a little forced. EITHER WAY. The next chapter is being written. I'm actually about to go write some more on it as I type this. (With a little bit of Fire Emblem in between pages! <3)
> 
> If you guys are ever interested in what's going on, feel free to reach out to me on Twitter or Discord. (Apparently Twitter thought my account got hacked? I don't know why, there's literally nothing on there...)  
> Twitter: @FanfictionRei  
> Discord: Kiwi#2753


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is a little short, but I wanted all of Pelna’s meddling to be in one chapter.  
> I also have a surprise for you guys that I might finish pulling together after I get some sleep. (Working overnight really fucks with your sleep.)

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 11

Monica, bless her soul, stared at Cor as if he’d grown a second head and that head also had another head attached to it. If he was smart, he’d get her a raise soon. He wasn’t sure how much more bullshit - Galahdian related or not - the poor woman would be willing to take.

“Let me make sure I have this correct,” she stated, staring at the Marshal blankly. “You bought a new apartment closer to the Galahdians with the intent of asking Ulric to move in with you.”

“Correct.”

“You then got cold feet about asking him, left him at the hospital with a worried toddler and then blatantly ignored him for _two weeks_.”

Cor frowned at her. “It sounds worse when you put it that way, but yes.”

Monica breathed deeply then released it slowly. “I believe,” she murmured, “that you are the biggest idiots I’ve ever known, Marshal. And I’ve known quite a few.” She held up a hand when Cor opened his mouth. “We aren’t arguing over your stupidity yet. That will take a whole day and a therapy session.”

Cor snorted. “You sound like Clarus after a council meeting.”

Monica was a decent enough person not to hit him. “Marshal,” she sighed. “You’ve tortured the poor man for two weeks, then you didn’t even really ask him to move in. You just told him the room was for him.” She brought her hands up to her face, trying desperately not to scream. All of that careful work, the nudges trying to get the two men to lean in the same direction. Now it all teetered on the edge of ruin because Cor had randomly decided to become fucking _shy_.

Sighing, she lifted her head to stare back at her idiot of a boss. “Well? Did he agree to stay? Or did he tell you to fuck off? Please tell me it wasn’t the last one…” Because that meant starting over. If Pelna was right, Nyx was the forgiving sort, but Cor could be a dumbass at times.

The Marshal frowned and snorted. “No. He actually didn’t say anything,” he admitted, glancing down at the papers scattered across his desk. “He kind of stared at me; did this weird little laugh and walked out.”

Monica made a distressed sound and pulled out her phone. Pelna and the others were still off duty, something about Drautos plotting something. But it meant the boys and Crowe were free to help her intervene. She left Cor staring at the papers as she made the call.

* * *

Pelna was beyond pleased with himself. Punishment for him was turning out to be punishment for a particular stone-eyed Marshal. Monica had called him shortly after he had gotten a rather self-satisfied call from one Titus Drautos. One informing him that his next week of life would be subject to the mighty whims of one Cor Leonis.

“I’m going to kiss Drautos,” he joked, grinning slyly. “The punisher has become the punished.”

Cor snorted disdainfully and stared at Pelna. “What makes you think I’ve become the punished one here?”

Pelna’s smile grew. “Because Marshal, I’m now your direct contact to a certain bird who flew the nest last night and know what he’s been doing for the past twenty-four hours.” He paused, propping his chin on his palm. “Monica also told me your side of the story and, I must say, you two are the most beautiful disaster I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

Cor wasn’t entirely sure if he should take that as a compliment or be offended so he decided to be neither. “So you’re blackmailing a superior officer?”

“I’m _helping_ a superior officer,” he corrected. “Catch the man of his dreams.”

He had the nerve to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively.

“What do you want, Khara?”

Pelna paused, watching the Marshal’s face. He wasn’t upset or angry, he just seemed… Resigned? Then again, Pelna couldn’t really blame him. According to Monica, Cor had spent the better half of two weeks trying to work up the courage to ask Nyx Ulric how he’d feel about the two of them raising Prompto together. Nyx had decided to show up unannounced on his doorstep and had discovered the room set aside for him. Cor had had two options at that point. Lie or tell the truth.

Problem was, Cor was a blunt asshole and had just blurted out that the room was Nyx’s. No suave entry, no flirting, nothing. He’d just plopped the information into Ulric’s lap and let him do with it as he will.

To Pelna’s knowledge - and utter glee - he and Monica were the only two people privy to that information. Cor had explained it all to Monica and she to him in hopes that he could talk to Nyx.

Nyx had flown the coop wordlessly after Cor’s announcement and had left a confused Marshal and sleepy Prompto behind. Pelna had talked to him. Well, he’d talked _at_ him. Nyx hadn’t really responded. Pelna, however, would continue to take pleasure in the fact that neither Crowe nor Libertus, not even Gerta herself; knew about this new development.

Yet.

That brought him back to Cor’s question. What did he want?

Nothing.

He didn’t want anything from Cor or Nyx. Where was the fun in that?

“Nothing,” he admitted finally, watching in amusement when Cor’s eyebrows rose skyward. “Perhaps to goad you now-and-then for being so blunt, but that’s all. If anything, I want to help.”

“Help?”

Honestly, Cor didn’t have to sound so skeptical. “Yes, help. I can check in on him, see if he’ll open up a bit and tell me what he’s thinking.” He just needed to do so before Libertus sank his fangs in. The other Galahdian was notorious for his bad relationship advice. Which meant Pelna would have to recruit the one person that knew how to keep Lib occupied.

* * *

Crowe stared at Pelna with wide eyes. He was going to make certain he wrote this tale down and got it published later. If nothing else so that Prompto would forever have a copy of the story of how stupid his fathers were.

“You’re serious?” The laughter started after he confirmed with a nod. “My gods, this keeps getting better. ‘Hey, I’ll cook for you. Hey, let’s take turns taking care of the kid. I moved closer to make it more convenient! By the way, here’s your room!’.” The laughter started again at her own joke.

“That’s the gist of it. Now I’m running along behind, trying to straighten the mess this boar of a man has left behind.” Pelna gave a dramatic sigh, throwing one arm over his eyes. “Pray for me.”

“Oh, you’re enjoying every minute of this,” Crowe accused, then laughed when he smiled sheepishly. “So what is it you need help with then? I’m not the person Ulric usually comes to for advice.”

“I know, but I need you to run interference for the one that usually _does_. I know Lib has good intentions but his advice is atrocious and will likely get both of our idiots killed.” And he, Pelna Khara; charmer extraordinaire, knew this from experience. It had taken him a month - a _month_! - to get Monica to forgive him for a prank gone awry. He’d avoided telling the other Galahdians _anything_ about her after that. All they had known was she worked in the Citadel.

Crowe smiled. “Consider it done. So what’s the plan for Nyx?”

Pelna paused, mainly because he hadn’t completely hammered out all the details, but if everything went _right_...

“I’m gonna feel the situation out,” he explained. “Try to get into his headspace and see where he’s at. If he’s just kinda freaked out because Cor obviously likes him back, I’ll move on to stage two. Just gotta make sure the idiot knows what he’s looking at.” Because everyone around him saw how happy he was with Cor and Prompto. A happiness many hadn’t see out of the younger man since before Galahd fell.

“And stage two?” Crowe pried, leaning forward curiously.

“I was going to talk to Gerta about that. I’m thinking Cor should cook something, show off the skills Nyx has taught him and bring it over to Nyx’s. A sort of peace offering, if you will. Maybe Nyx will get the hint because I think Cor may have started to unravel his end of this tangled mess."

But tangles were known to get worse once you started tugging on strings, and Pelna wanted to tread carefully. One wrong pull and the tangle would be an unending knot and scissors just wasn’t an option for these two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and something I didn’t mention in the last post. Know how I was gone that entire month with a whole bunch of stuff happening? So uh. [Meet Nyx and Milo.](https://i.imgur.com/FCfTSd3.jpg) Two kittens I rescued from the parking lot at work. Yes, Nyx (black) is named after our favorite Galahdian. Milo (tabby) is named after the cat from Milo & Otis, one of my favorite movies growing up. (And so you know, Axel was named after the Kingdom Hearts character, I had a cat before him named Misty, after Pokemon’s Misty of course. Axel was almost named Satoshi or Ash for that same reason.) Nyx is also special because he’s bobtail. I’m not sure if its because he’s a Manx or if its a birth defect. [But it’s adorable all the same.](https://i.imgur.com/w8TRtRP.jpg)
> 
> THE MORE YOU KNOW.
> 
> (ノ°▽°)ノ:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:♪･ﾟ’☆~


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first things first. I'm sorry this took so long. Shortly after my birthday, my computer decided to die. But I have a lovely boyfriend who ended up splitting the cost of computer parts with a mutual friend of ours. Which was a surprise to me because I had no idea what they were up to. Sneaky little bastards.
> 
> Secondly, Septembre gave me a lovely drawing for my birthday and I absolutely love it. Then I found out their birthday was the week before mine. SO A ONE-SHOT IS BEING WRITTEN. It's gonna be long as fuck. I think I've already got like 6 pages and its not even halfway. So keep an eye out for that sometime this month.
> 
> THIRDLY! I'm writing a Halloween fic. As of right now, it _should_ be done in time for Halloween, but if it's a little late... EH.  
> Everything else is on hold until I feel like writing on it because I'm in one of THOSE kinds of slumps. -throws hands in the air- Aw yeah. Writer's block tryin' its best, but Rei's gonna keep swatting it with the flyswatter until it stops. Or the flyswatter breaks.
> 
> ENJOY! :D

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 12

Two very particular things happened while Pelna kept an eye on Nyx throughout his workday. The first sign things were amiss was when he sulked in his office for an hour straight. Until Lazarus had Tredd bulldoze the door down so he could call Ulric a stupid, useless asshole.

The second came shortly after the first. Pelna had moved closer to Nyx's office since, of course; the door was wide open now and was obviously an invitation to come inside. He'd barely stepped over the threshold when he heard Luche say something he'd likely regret rather soon.

"Dunno why you're sulking. The kid will likely come to you soon anyway." When Nyx just stared at Luche like he was an idiot, he boldly continued. "He's a Grade-A asshole after all. No way a fucker like him could raise a kid without it coming back a little... deranged."

Nyx - for his part - took everything in stride as he casually picked up the small morbol shaped paperweight up from his desk and chucked it straight into Lazarus' head. Luche dropped like a sack of potatoes and Nyx blinked before he peered over his desk. "Huh. Oops." When his attention turned to Pelna, the other man quickly held up both hands.

"Oh no. Lazarus fainted and hit his head on your desk. Ya know, he told me he didn't feel good earlier." When Nyx's expression remained blank, Pelna dropped his hands to his sides. "Man, this is really getting to you. Look, I'll drag Luche to the medical ward and then I'll come back, yeah?"

Nyx watched him, but there was a look of consideration that hadn't been there before. "Alright," he agreed after a few more seconds before he returned his gaze to the downed Lazarus. "He's going to be mad."

"He'll get over it. Needs to learn when to shut up anyway," Pelna huffed before gathering the unconscious party up and dragging him out of Nyx's office.

Some questions were asked, but Pelna had that worldly charm about him that made the nurses forget that Luche had obviously been whacked in the head with something. It also got back to Monica that he was flirting with the nurses and if the voicemail on his phone was any indication, he was going to be in trouble when he got home.

Monica was the silent, wrathful type.

He loved her for it.

When he managed to make it back to Nyx's office, he found the other man staring out the small window over the couch in the tiny office. Small was a gracious description. It was more like a broom closet, but Luche and Nyx had both been graced with these small rooms by Drautos since both were acting as his second-in-command. Luche technically had the position first, but he pissed everyone off that he spoke to. Most of them came to Ulric with issues, which the lovable idiot tried to fix for them. Which was probably how he'd gotten himself saddled with a toddler and a grumpy Marshal.

"How much did Monica tell you?" Nyx asked after the door shut. Pelna paused, watching his back. When he didn't answer, Nyx turned to glance over his shoulder at him. "I take it she told you everything then."

He shrugged. "She plays therapist for Cor a lot these days. So I listen when she can't figure his dumbass out and try to be helpful." Another shrug and a sly grin. "Honestly? It's funny as hell. Think about it. Cor Leonis, the Immortal, having a midlife crisis because of a toddler and a particular Kingsglaive lieutenant."

Nyx snorted because he was a petulant little shit and Pelna had the mind to call him just that but kept it to himself. "How do you just," Nyx murmured, waving his hands in the air. "Tell someone they have a room in your house? How am I supposed to respond to that?"

"I mean. He could have invited you into his bed instead." Nyx's stare was judgemental and Pelna took it all in stride. "You're an idiot if you haven't noticed."

"I'm Galahadian."

"So? Prompto is some little science project from the middle of the Empire. I don't see Cor balking at that."

Nyx opened his mouth, then closed it; staring at Pelna because of course, the idiot had never thought of that, Pelna could read that realization on his face. Leonis had never cared what nationality the two had been. If he had, Prompto would still be in that lab being poked and prodded.

That thought sent a shiver down his spine.

"Think about it," Pelna started gently. "You two have been swapping him between each other. This would make things easier and he'd have both of you together for the most part. And if it doesn't work out," he paused and shrugged. "You always have a home in the Quarter."

When Nyx stayed quiet, Pelna stood and discreetly left his office. If he'd accomplished nothing else, at least now Nyx was realizing some key things he hadn't thought of before.

* * *

Pelna's trek took him up five floors and down a few different hallways, but he'd memorized the route months ago. He was used to Monica sitting at her desk, nose buried in a folder full of papers and reports. What he wasn't used to was Cor sitting on her couch looking like someone had pissed in his cornflakes that morning.

"Uh... Bad time?" Because it looked like a bad time. Like he was shoving his head right into a Coeurl's jaws like it wasn't an act of suicide.

Monica's visible relief at seeing him made the urge to run that much stronger. "No, no. The Marshal here was just..."

"Bellyaching about a certain Galahdian that's also bellyaching?" Pelna supplied with a smile as he plopped in a chair, ignoring the look Monica gave him as he turned his attention on Cor. "Our lovable idiot has a few hangups, but I promise it's nothing to do with you and all to do with him being a 'dirty Galahdian'." The frown that phrasing brought to Cor's face made Pelna a little giddy.

"Khara."

"His birthday is next week," Pelna supplied quickly, catching the way Cor's shoulders tensed slightly. "He taught you to cook. Use those skills and make him dinner. Invite him over. Don't need a gift, just talk it out. Monica and I can watch Prom if you want."

Because Nyx was an overthinking idiot that needed to be left alone in a room with Cor so the other big overthinking idiot could call him stupid. The two of them liked each other, and yeah maybe it was only friendship, but that was more than Cor had with most and something Nyx also shared with very few.

"I would keep back," Monica added, pulling Cor's intense gaze off Pelna and to her. "Let him come to you if he wants to talk. Pelna's laid out the groundwork. I have a feeling he'll visit you before the week is out."

Cor remained silent for a long moment before he slowly stood up, that hard blue gaze returning to Pelna like a punch to the gut. "You're sure about this?" His gaze wavered towards Monica. "Both of you?"

"As sure as I can be, sir."

"Kinda, yeah."

He continued to stare for a moment longer, snorted then left the room.

"Now to talk Gerta into being the best wing-man alive."

Monica snorted. "Why Gerta?"

"I wasn't joking when I said Nyx feels that way, about being Galahdian I mean. He's like the rest of the young crowd. Tired and angry, but he's quiet and lets it eat at him." Pausing, Pelna shrugged because he'd never really considered the age difference between him and Nyx. Or between Nyx and Cor for that matter. But Gerta had always been the voice of reason back home. To Nyx and Lib, her word was like that of a God. "If Gerta tells him he's being childish, he'll think it over. I already had a bit of a breakthrough pointing out Prom isn't Insomnian and Cor has no problem with him. It's just getting Nyx away from the idea that he's somehow tainting the both of them."

"People were already badmouthing Cor long before Nyx worked his way into the picture," Monica said with a slight chuckle. "To his face mostly. He usually just walks away, or if he's feeling particularly sassy; he'll give them the middle finger."

It was Pelna's turn to snort. "Lazarus made the comment to Nyx that Prompto was going to turn out deranged if he was left with Cor."

The way Monica's eyes lit up made the world a little brighter. "Oh? Go on..."

"Nyx didn't take kindly to it."

"Is that why I got a call before Cor lumbered into my office like a sulking Anak Calf about an 'incident'? Something about a Glaive getting sick and hitting his head?"

"Yup!"

"Hm. They did say the-" Monica paused, cleared her throat and fluttered her eyelashes at him, "-'Charming Captain Khara' brought him in. Then they proceeded to _gush_ about _my_ boyfriend over the phone to _me_ for fifteen minutes."

Pelna was a good soldier and didn't flinch because Monica was _jealous_ and it was one of the rarest things he was proud to say he'd seen. "Ah, I knew you'd hear about that. I didn't want them to ask any questions so I put on the ol' Khara charm." He wiggled his eyebrows because he was a stupid man with a death wish.

"I should go in there and glare at all of them."

It would be hilarious to watch the nurses fidget, he knew. Because he and Monica's relationship was still somewhat of a secret outside of his circle of friends so the nurses would have no idea why the female Crownsguard was burning holes in their backs.

"How about instead I take you out for dinner. Not to Gerta's but a nice place in town."

"Like a date?" She paused thoughtfully then nodded. "Alright. I suppose that will make up for your transgressions." Her voice took on a teasing note then as she closed her folder. "I'll even silence my phone so we're not interrupted by more Midlife Crisis Leonis."

"Why Ms. Elshett. That is the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

Monica laughed as Pelna held the door for her, heading out and down the hall towards the elevator and freedom from the Citadel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short this time, but I typed this entire chapter on my phone while at work and honestly it looked a million times longer.
> 
> Side note: I decided to make Pelna older is this. Not older than Cor, but just a little older than Nyx. Who, for story purposes is in his early 20s while Cor is in his late 20s touching on 30. Pelna is closer in age to Cor this go-around. Just because I wanted a male character (not Regis or Clarus) to have a bit more of a level head. Though Clarus is gonna show up sooner or later. And I hope you guys love him because he's like this trauma that neither Regis or Cor will talk about.
> 
> -cackles-
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this Pelna infused chapter. Aiming for angsty-fluff in the next one. WE'LL SEE! :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -sneaks in-  
> -slides chapter across table-

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 13

Cor had a lot of different issues happening all at once. Nyx was one, but the problems seemed to be blooming into quite the ridiculous flower. Regis had decided that Cor should be his therapist since Aulea wasn't getting any less pregnant. A fact that Regis was becoming increasingly stressed about. But if her due date was accurate, and he and Nyx had guessed Prom's age correctly, the two would only be apart by a year. They had guessed Prompto's birthday would be in late October and here they were in August now. Aulea was due in September, but one could never tell with babies.

Or that's what Cor had been told at least.

The plan so far was to hold Prom back by one year so the two could eventually enter school together. Cor didn't have a problem with it, and neither had Nyx. The tot was already starting to spout half-words. His favorite was a Galahadian curse he'd heard Nyx murmur weeks ago. Much to Cor's amusement, it was the one word the boy seemed to like to use around the King. Maybe it was because Regis had no clue what the toddler was saying and just smiled and laughed.

Apparently, it was Galahdian for 'shit'. 

But Cor had the feeling that these 'playdates' between the King and Prompto were more to relax the stress the King was facing with the coming birth of his heir. Which was why Cor found himself today and every other Wednesday in the King's study, watching the man make faces at his ward who giggled at every eye-roll or stupid face Regis made.

It had also become an excuse for the dreaded 'talk'. In which Regis would none too subtly probe him for information on one Nyx Ulric.

"Clarus asked about you."

The admission brought Cor's attention away from his rampaging thoughts and to the man sitting at the desk. Prompto was still laughing but the King's full attention was on him. "What?"

Regis had the nerve to roll his eyes and sigh, which brought on another bout of laughter from the toddler. "Amicitia. He was asking after you yesterday. Evidently, he hasn't seen you in weeks. Whenever he drops by your office you're gone. Or that's what Monica tells him."

Monica was running interference then because she hadn't mentioned those little visits. Which meant they weren't important. Good.

"I've been busy. The move took some time and organizing my home office... And of course, Prompto getting settled-"

"The way I hear it," Regis murmured, bouncing Prom on his knee. "You ditched Ulric with him and disappeared for a week."

"And where did you hear that?" Because it wasn't Nyx. The man had too much reverence for the King to come to him with personal problems. Monica would never even approach the King about anything other than work, but she would tell Pelna. And Khara would definitely take some weird, sick pleasure out of watching them squirm. "I'm going to punch Khara."

"Wasn't Khara," Regis said quickly, which made Cor believe him even less. "Apparently Lazarus filed a complaint against you with Drautos because..." Regis paused, cleared his throat and repeated the account in tones that could only be mocking Drautos' deeper voice. "Leonis is a distraction of the worst kind. All Ulric does is bellyache about not knowing if he's doing right by the brat or if he's hindering Leonis in some fashion."

Cor snorted, though his eyes narrowed enough to make the King's grin a little wider. "Perhaps it's time I talk to Lazarus myself."

It was the King's turn to snort. "No need. A little bird told me Lazarus is in the medical ward with a mild concussion. The officer that brought him claimed he felt sick and passed out, hitting his head on a desk. Can you guess who's desk that might be?"

The smile he was giving Cor told him more than he wanted to know. "Call me when Prom gets ready for his nap," he instructed as he stood up. "I'll come back and pick him up."

"Where are you off to so quick?"

Cor didn't answer, he just shot Regis a knowing look before exiting the room.

Looking down at Prompto, Regis watched curiously as the boy watched Cor leave before those blue-violet eyes peered back up at him. "Sorry son," he teased, tickling him under his chin and earning a giggle. "I needed to grease the gears just a little." Because everyone in the Citadel thought Cor was cold and calculating, but the King knew he was actually a dense, loveable idiot. 

* * *

Cor’s adventure was derailed before it even fully began. He’d made it to the elevator, gone down two floors when it stopped to allow someone else on.

That someone was none other than Clarus.

His immediate reaction was to try and leave the elevator, unfortunately, Clarus decided he needed to take up the entire doorway, blocking his exit.

“Ah, Cor. You’re a hard man to find these days,” the Shield murmured, ignoring the open look of dismay Cor knew was playing across his face as the elevator door closed. “I need to talk to you.”

“You could have left a note with Monica,” Cor murmured, feeling more like the brat he’d been when traveling with the King and his guard all those years ago. “I’ve been busy.”

Clarus snorted, folding his arms over his chest as he watched the number count down the floors as they passed them. “This is sensitive information.” Without warning, he reached out and pressed the emergency button on the elevator. The metal square jerked to a halt, the white light within turning red. Cor grabbed the metal bar around the wall, glaring at the Shield in annoyance.

“What the fuck, Clarus?”

“The Empire is developing a new weapon,” Clarus stated, turning to face Cor completely. He was rather intimidating in the red glow of the emergency lights. “We don’t have much information on it other than its big and nearly half-built. I’ve informed Drautos of the matter. He and a large group of Kingsglaive are being sent out to scope the borders of Garlea to try and find out more.

Cor felt a lead weight drop into his stomach. If they were sending the Kingsglaive, there was no doubt in his mind Nyx would be on that list of names, probably near the top and underlined a few times. “Do you want me to follow?” he asked lamely, knowing the answer already but silently hoping it was still ‘yes’.

“No. We’re sending them out in mass, which means I need the Crownsguard to tighten up their guard on the city. If we can take this weapon out before they finish it, it’ll gain us some ground in this ‘war’.”

The war.

What a load of shit. They were technically in a ceasefire for now, but both sides were still doing little things to undermine the other. The Empire would ‘accidentally’ drop troops where they weren’t supposed to be. Insomnia would ‘accidentally’ blow up a base.

An illusion of peace for the benefit of the people while both powers took potshots at the other.

“When do they leave?” he asked, wondering how soon he could drop by and see Nyx. He hadn’t spoken to the other man since that night. He’d rather the two of them part on better terms than ‘not currently speaking’. 

“They left last night.”

The lead weight got heavier. He’d just spoken to Pelna yesterday afternoon about Nyx. Now that he’d actually come to the decision to force a discussion with the other man, they’d been whisked off in the dead of night on a mission.

Typical.

“Should be back by the end of the week,” Clarus continued, pulling the tab on the elevator’s power panel so the lights returned to normal and it resumed its course. “I would have told you sooner, but you were avoiding me.” When Cor shot him a glare, Clarus met it with a smile. “You should talk to me more often. Then maybe I won’t have to punish you by withholding information.”

That was the Amicitia he knew growing up. Sharp-eyed and spiteful.

Like the father he’d left behind when he’d joined the military.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The elevator slowed, dinging as it opened its doors. The corridor was quiet, the doors closed. Cor didn’t need to look at the floor number to know they were at the Kingsglaive offices. No one was there, so he quietly waited for the doors to close again. When the elevator jerked back into motion, it started going up.

“How long have you known about the weapon?” Cor asked as he leaned his back against the elevator wall. “And do you think they can take it out?”

“We haven’t known for that long,” Clarus murmured with a shrug. “I hope they can, or at least damage it enough to keep it off the field for longer. If my information is correct, they’ve been working on it for quite some time. The Glaives and Drautos are going to skirt the outer area of Garlea and see if they can find where it's being worked on. If they can find it and destroy it, that will be a devastating blow for the Empire. Which means a semblance of peace, for a little while at least”

“And if they can’t?”

He already knew the answer. He wished he didn’t, but he did.

“It means war.”

A war they very much could not afford to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so first things first.  
> I am so very, very, very sorry. I've been dealing with some stuff and writer's block hit me like a train wreck, so I've just been coasting along waiting. I also kinda fell into a completely different fandom. Two actually, one of which I'm writing on but won't be posting under this pseudo. It will likely be under RoarOfTheEarth.
> 
> I may have fallen headfirst into Good Omens and Lucifer.
> 
> Secondly, I have a few other half-stories written. The Halloween fic is still sitting here waiting to be finished, I was thinking about writing a Christmas fic but threw that out after I realized I'd probably never finish it. I also have a long one-shot I haven't finished. PLUS THE TWO THINGS I WAS DABBLING WITH FOR GOOD OMENS.  
> :D  
> -sobs-
> 
> On a nice side note, I started writing chapter 14 as a one-shot, realized I could make it for Of All The Stupid Things, finished 13 so it would fit in and bam. You have chapter 13 here and chapter 14 coming up soon. :D  
> (And I might try and find a prompt for Xmas, but idk if I'll be able to get it out in time.)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest. I've been in an angsty mood and wanted to write something angst-riddled. This kinda fit, so I ran with it. Didn't completely tickle that fancy, so there will be more.
> 
> Sorry for making you guys wait so long for updates.

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 14

The air around him seemed to be ringing loudly in his ears, the ground rolled under his feet and the very air he breathed turned to ash. Fire filled his lungs as screams filled his ears. Smoke and dust obscured his vision, clogged his throat and left him blind. Somewhere in the distance, he could make out the sound of death taking someone else, friend or foe.

The sound of a bomb going off nearby deafened him, the force of it knocked him off his feet and back to the ground. He laid there, staring up at the obscured, dust-filled sky as static crackled in his ear and a broken voice demanded they retreat.

The ride home was in silence, broken only by the occasional moan or cough. No one spoke. No one wanted to acknowledge it. 

For the first time, it actually felt like they were losing the war.

It took a week to get back within the borders of Lucis. A few more days before the truck bumped along the worn roads leading to Insomnia in the dead of night. Insomnia, filled with light, filled with people who thought they were _safe_. Yet he wasn’t so sure anymore.

He ignored the order to get medical attention and instead started walking. It was dark, no one was out on the streets to see his wavering steps, or see the way he swayed when the world decided to spin out of control. No one saw the way he startled when a cat jumped away from a garbage can, the resulting _’bang!’_ echoing down the street. No one saw him reach his home and lean against the door in silence before pushing away from it only to wander back off towards the street.

Later, if anyone ever bothered to ask what the hell he’d been thinking, he wouldn’t be able to answer. He’d just walked, with death trapped between his ears and smoke still caught in his lungs; he went where his feet took him.

Where his feet took him still didn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense, so he stared at the door in silence, wondering what his next move should be. He could leave, go back home where it was quiet. 

His mind recoiled at the thought.

He heard the tumble of lock, heard the doorknob twist as the wood scuffed against its frame. He stood there even as he found himself staring up into blue eyes, watched as they went from hazy with boredom to sharp and calculating. They searched his face, followed the trails of blood, sweat, and soot.

“Nyx?”

Why had he come here? He hadn’t spoken to Cor in nearly three weeks now. But here he was, freshly back from a battle gone wrong and instead of going _home_ like a normal person, or staying in the medical wing with the others, he’d opted to avoid the nurses and come here.

Why?

Somewhere deep down, he knew the answer. He shoved it further away.

This was a mistake.

“Sorry,” he heard himself say and wandered absently when he’d deepthroated sandpaper because he sounded like shit. And tired. Very, _very_ tired. He ripped his gaze away from the growing concern on Cor’s face, intent on retreating home; but the shadows down the hall wavered and gathered closer at the edges of his vision.

Now was not the best time to blackout, but his brain wasn’t really listening to him on the matter. Darkness swallowed him before his knees even finished buckling.

* * *

“Nyx, _go_ ,” a voice rasped next to his ear. He ignored it and put more pressure on the wound. He should have brought more elixirs with him, but he’d thrown his remaining four at Crowe after he’d seen the mess she and Libertus were dealing with. He hadn’t expected to stumble across a rookie with a piece of rebar jutting out of his side near a fallen magitek armor.

He pressed a finger against the comm in his ear and spouted off his coordinates. He’d barely finished when the ground under him shivered. A string of curses poured into his ear just in time for the explosion.

The heat hit him first, then the feeling of boiling alive. He jerked backward, tried to find the energy to cast something, _anything_ , but couldn’t. And then the screams started.

He opened his eyes and stared up into darkness, his breath coming in short, rapid bursts. The screaming still echoed in his ears.

Crowe. Libertus.

He had to get back to them.

He surged forward only to release a short, loud shout as he dropped and landed on something hard in the darkness. Where the hell-

Light bloomed to life, blinding him until a figure obscured if from above him. His first reaction was to snarl as he twisted himself into a defensive posture while his brain did mental gymnastics, trying to figure out where the hell he was.

“Easy,” Cor’s voice was a murmur, gentle like he was trying to soothe a frightened Chocobo. “You’re okay,” he continued in that same tone. “You blacked out.”

“Blacked out,” Nyx repeated as his brain slowly caught up. It took him a moment to realize his heart was racing and he was breathing hard. He also wasn’t outside, but in a room with his back pressed to a wall. He took a deep breath and let it shudder out of his lungs.

He was back in Insomnia. He could vaguely remember the ride back.

He’d gone home but had ended up at Cor’s apartment.

Right.

He took another long pull of air into his lungs before easing himself into a sitting position on the floor. Cor moved back, but not far; squatting down in front of him for continued observation.

“You ok?” the Marshal ventured after a few more minutes of silence. “I need to take you back to the Citadel so they can have a look at you.”

Nyx, for his part, didn’t try to take off running. He’d avoided the nurses and medical personnel so he could escape unhindered. He just couldn’t remember why.

“No,” he murmured, then again a little more firmly when all he got was a perplexed look from the Marshal. He dropped his head into his hands to avoid Cor’s stare, rubbing his face.

He’d been cleaned up somewhat at some point. His face wasn’t covered in grit and grime anymore. He still had on his uniform, the sleeves tattered and dirty. He stared at the fabric, his mind reeling backward. The distant sound of screams and explosions started to get louder again.

“ _Nyx._ ”

A hand landed on his shoulder, bring him back. His gaze shot to Cor’s face and he quietly cursed himself for seeing the worry there.

“What happened?”

Nyx opened his mouth to answer but couldn’t, the words trapped in his throat. He closed his mouth and tried again with no luck How as he supposed to explain what he’d seen? What had happened when he didn’t even fully understand it?

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted, staring at Cor to ground himself because anything else meant succumbing to the panic he could feel fluttering wildly in his chest. “We lost.”

Whatever it was, this new weapon the Empire was toying with…

It meant death.

A sound near the door pulled both their attention away from each other just in time for Nyx to recognize the sound of small feet on carpet so he could catch the small blond streak that launched itself at him. Prompto hit him with enough force he nearly rolled back onto the floor but he managed to stay seated, wrapping his arms firmly around the toddler as Prom nuzzled into his chest. Burying his face against Prompto’s gold curls, Nyx breathed in deep.

For that moment at least, his world stopped spinning out of control.

* * *

Prom slept in the bed with him, tucked up against his side like the world’s cutest teddy bear. Nyx didn’t sleep, opting to sit there quietly instead while Cor bandaged what the elixir he’d cracked hadn’t healed.

Magic was great but it couldn’t fix everything.

They hadn’t spoken much. Cor didn’t ask about the mission again and Nyx didn’t offer any further insight on the matter. Besides, he’d hear about it from the King in the morning, he was sure. Drautos had been going to see him once everyone had been seen to.

“I should head home,” he murmured, trying to ignore the frown Cor was aiming at him, which was fairly impossible with the man leaning over him.

“You just got back from a mission,” Cor stated dryly.

“Well… yes. And?”

“You passed out on my doorstep.”

“I don’t see how that matters-”

“Nyx.”

Taking a deep breath, he met Cor’s gaze.

“Stay.”

It wasn’t a demand, it wasn’t a request either but for some reason, Nyx felt the tension bleed out of his shoulders. Beside him, Prompto nuzzled a little closer. He looked away from Cor, letting his gaze fall to the sleeping toddler instead.

“Yeah,” he murmured after a few more seconds of silence. “I’ll stay.”

* * *

Cor stared at Regis then back down at the piece of paper that had been pushed across the desk to him. Drautos had written out the events in detail. The casualties, the injuries, the overall damages.

And that had just been from the first part of the mission. Before the weapon had even shown up. The Empire had been ready for them.

They were still trying to figure out what the fuck had happened after.

“That,” Regis started, hands folded together in front of him. “Is the Empire’s new toy, it would seem.”

“I thought the reports said it wasn’t finished.”

“It’s not,” Regis answered gloomily. “This was a trial run for it, apparently.” He paused, stared out his window then looked back at Cor, a look of grim determination spreading across his face. “This war must stop.”

“They won’t stop until Insomnia is gone, Regis.”

The sound of the King’s fist hitting his desk echoed in the office.

“Half, Cor! _Half!_ ” he seethed.

_Half._

He looked down at the paper again and felt something like dread crawling up his throat. Nyx could have easily been a part of that half. But he’d never agree to leave the battlefield. Not when he was protecting his home.

Shifting his gaze away from the paper, Cor met the King’s gaze. Filled with fury, Regis reminded him more of Mors at that moment than he ever had. It was chilling, seeing the ghost of his former King’s face before him. “What do you need me to do?”

“Not just you,” Regis stated simply, his eyes hard. “ _Us._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love AU. It means I can fuck around with the story and it is perfectly fine.  
> Like having the Diamond Weapon pop up early and ruin everyone's day.
> 
> -cackles-
> 
> And I'm going to really enjoy writing the next chapter. Give me some time to get it going. I had chapter 13 half-written when I decided what to write for 14. So 15 is being written as we speak but there's gonna be a lot of action going on.


	15. Chapter 15

# Of All the Stupid Things

# Part 15

“This is a bad idea.”

“I agree.”

“So why are we doing it?”

Regis Lucis Caelum turned to look at the three men standing behind him. Cid Sohair, Clarus Amicitia, and Cor Leonis. “Because we’re the only ones that can.”

Cor didn’t argue, just stared at his King expectantly. He’d reached out to Cid on a whim, hoping for an answer. When the man had shown up a few hours later, spear in hand, he knew what his answer was. Clarus, of course, had been very vocal in his displeasure over the whole idea.

He'd come dressed in his old fatigues and combat gear anyway.

Weskham Armaugh was the only one not there, though Cor knew why. The King's former royal advisor had been hurt back in the day and forced to withdraw from the battles. He had gotten in contact with him though, to let him know that they were going to do something very, very stupid. He’d gotten an ear-full and a lot of being told how stupid they all were. Wesk had also cursed Regis loudly enough that the rest of the group had heard it over the phone.

Regis had just agreed, wished him well and gone back to the large map spread across the war room table.

“From what was in Drautos’ report,” the King murmured, placing a marker on the map along with a few smaller ones. “This is where they encountered the weapon.” He paused, tapping a space not far from where the battle had taken place. “There’s a research facility here but likely they’ve already moved it.”

Clarus snorted as he stared down at the map. “So you mean to search each one for this thing?” he murmured. “That could take _months_ Regis! We don’t have that kind of time!” When the King didn’t answer him, The Shield slammed his fist against the table. “Your Majesty, we have to think reasonably here! You have an heir on the way and a Kingdom to protect!”

“That is exactly why,” Regis breathed before he lifted his gaze to his old friend. “We’re going to destroy them. Each and everyone.”

* * *

Nyx bolted upright, his eyes darting around the darkened room. Sweat slid down his back, a heat that wasn’t truly there licked at his skin. Another nightmare. At least he hadn’t thrown himself off the bed this time. Rubbing his face and waiting for his heart to stop trying to break out of his chest, Nyx took a quick peek over at the side of the bed where Prompto laid curled up and sleeping quietly.

The boy had latched onto him since he’d come back the day before. If Nyx wasn’t nearby when those blue eyes opened, the toddler went searching for him. It was almost like he _knew_. Knew something was going on in Nyx’s head that needed soothing, even if he didn’t understand it.

He laid back down, staring up at the ceiling as he willed the remaining images playing through his mind to disappear. If nothing else he should distract himself for the time being. Apologizing to Cor would be a good start. He was pretty sure the Marshal hadn't expected for him to show up broken and bloody at his door.

Nyx was still trying to figure that out as well. Why had he ended up here? He'd gone home, he knew that much but it was almost like his mind had rebelled against the thought. Maybe he'd subconsciously sought out another person? He glanced at Prompto again. It made sense, he supposed. He had gotten attached to the little guy.

_'It's kinda obvious you two like each other.'_ Crowes' voice echoed in his mind. A memory from the journey to Niflheim. She and Lib had teased him for a good portion of it. He'd tried to ignore them but now that he thought about it, actually took a step back and examined what he was dealing with…

His first thought when the fire had started raining down on them hadn't been words, it had been an image. A reflection of Cor standing there holding Prom. That same, emotionless face with one slightly arched brow. In his arms, those bright, happy blue-violet eyes set above chubby little cheeks.

For the first time since Galahd; he'd been afraid.

Breathing in deep, Nyx picked himself up from his bed and eased his way towards the door. He didn't want to wake Prom yet, maybe after he got some eggs scrambled for the tyke. Slipping past the door and into the hall, he tiptoed to the kitchen and paused. Cor was nowhere in sight and most of the lights were off save the light over the stove. Flipping on the kitchen light, Nyx started towards the fridge but paused when he noticed a folded piece of paper sitting on the counter. His name was scrawled across the front of it in Cor's very distinct, slightly scratchy handwriting.

He stared at the folded paper for a long moment, his fingers twitching by his side; itching to touch the note. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he reached out and plucked the paper from the counter; unfurling the sheet until he could read what was written.

_'I'm sorry,'_ it started, which wasn't really a nice way to start a letter.

_'I was summoned by his Majesty to the Citadel this morning before you woke. Hopefully, I won't be long and we can talk when I get back. Until then…_

_Stay.'_

Nyx snorted and stared at the last word sprawled across the bottom of the note.

Leave it to Cor to give commands in a damn letter.

Shaking his head and folding the paper back up, he shoved it into his pocket before heading back to his room where he could hear Prompto moving around.

* * *

"I still think this is a horrible idea," Clarus murmured as he stared out across the ocean. Regis, Cor and he were standing on the doc of Galdin Quay, waiting quietly for Cid to pull the boat around from where it had been docked.

"Clarus," Regis murmured with all the patience of a mother trying to soothe their devil child. "You've already said this half a dozen times."

"And I'll repeat it half a dozen more on the way there."

The smile on Regis' face made Cor anxious. "Need I remind you that Cid is driving? Do you want another trip like the one to Altissa? Because Weskham isn't here to keep you from flying overboard."

The Shield gave his King a mighty frown. "I hope your child takes after Aluea."

Regis kept the unnerving, easygoing smile plastered on his face. "I'm sure Prompto and Gladiolus will keep my child perfect company. Right, Cor?"

Suddenly the idea of Prom keeping up with a miniature Regis and Clarus made Cor's stomach churn. Because while Regis might be Ifrit reincarnated, Aluea had married the bastard and was just as bad; if not worse, than the King.

"Six help me," he murmured under his breath, breathing a soft sigh as Cid finally arrived in the boat. Now he just had to survive the ride there. In close quarters with both the King and his Shield. Silently he wondered how much Cid would chide him for using him as a buffer between himself and the other two.

* * *

_”Something about this whole situation seems uniquely unfair,”_ Nyx’s voice murmured over the earpiece. Cor could practically hear the frown he was wearing and couldn’t blame him for it. _”You and I need to talk. Like actually talk, not huffing and bitching over a phone,”_ the Glaive continued.

“I know,” the Marshal murmured back, his gaze falling out across the ocean. He’d stolen away from the cabin and Cid’s watchful gaze when he’d gotten a text from the younger man. He hadn’t spoken to Nyx since he’d shown up on his doorstep other than a note telling him to stay put. But he’d thought he’d be home, not half-way across the ocean watching the sun stain the sky as it dipped lower on the horizon. “I was serious before when you left. The room is yours.” He paused, the silence on the other side of the line was deafening. “If I don’t come back-”

_”Shut the fuck up,”_ Nyx’s voice hissed in such a way it felt like it had slipped into his ear and tickled his eardrum. _”When,”_ he continued, emphasizing his words carefully. _”You come back, we’ll talk about all of this.”_ Another pause, this one shorter. _”I’ll stay put until then. Not that I can go anywhere.”_

Cor, for all his stoic silence, chuckled.

_”I **knew** it was you!”_

After figuring out he wasn’t going to be going home, Cor had made a friendly call to the Kingsglaive office to inform a humorously panicked Drautos that one of his Glaives was currently at his apartment. Nyx had informed him upon calling that he’d been rudely cornered in the apartment, poked, prodded and bitched at for a solid hour before they had taken him and Prompto back to the medical wing to be examined.

He had a concussion, a fracture in one arm, a few nicely cracked ribs and enough bruises smudged here and there that some of the medical staff had been afraid to poke him too hard.

Drautos had dropped him back off at Cor’s apartment afterward with a warning to check-in. He'd also been informed that he and pretty much what was left of the Kingsglaive were benched until further notice from the King.

“I knew you wouldn’t go back unless you were forced,” Cor admitted, smiling faintly at the angry huffs coming across the phone and thankful his back was to the prying eyes peering at him from the ship's cabin. He was pretty sure Regis, Clarus and Cid all knew how to read lips. “I only called after I found out I wouldn’t be making it home. I was going to make you go when I got back.” There was a defiant snort from over the phone. “I would have won.”

_”Over my dead body.”_

Another chuckle, this time a little softer. “How are you holding up?”

_”All things considered?”_ Nyx murmured then fell silent for a few moments before answering. _”That… That was the first time it actually felt like we might lose, Cor. Coming home, looking at this city, knowing all of these faces…”_ He paused again and Cor could hear him take a shuddering breath. _”If we lost. If Insomnia fell to the Empire… No one would survive that, but how are we supposed to keep it from happening? That thing-”_

“Breathe,” Cor stated softly, listening as Nyx stopped stammering long enough to do as he was instructed. He wished he was there, in the room with him face to face instead of talking to him over the phone. “It’s going to be okay.”

_”Is it?”_

The shakiness and the way Nyx’s voice cracked at that moment hardened Cor’s resolve. “Yes,” he murmured, turning his head as he heard footsteps approaching him. Regis was watching him quietly, the look on his face telling Cor he’d at least heard a small portion of his conversation. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while again. I had a nice little depressive episode that lasted longer than it should have! :D More action in the next chapter.
> 
> I’m gonna try to update fairly soon but writer’s block is kinda sneaking in on me and being a little _bitch_ , so I’m dabbling in another fandom at the moment to try and circumvent it.
> 
> I’m also gonna be free from work for about 3 weeks because of a surgery I’m having on the 25th (I was trying to get this out earlier so I could tell you guys about this but…. LOL :D). So yeah, hopefully, I can try and get some stuff written while I’m off from stress-filled work. (The surgery isn’t major, so no worries there!)


End file.
